Of Ticking Clocks and Beating Hearts
by Kittenshift17
Summary: *HIATUS* Hermione is approached with a time-travel safeguard to right the wrongs of the wars. Sent back in time to the first year of the Marauders schooling, Hermione is given a De-Aging potion to begin Hogwarts over again only this time she must get herself sorted into Slytherin to befriend Snape and some other 'at-risk' students. Can she save Snape without falling for him?
1. Chapter 1:Formulating A Plan

**Of Ticking Clocks &amp; Beating Hearts**

_Chapter 1: Formulating a Plan_

"Excuse me?" a soft voice asked of Hermione Granger, breaking the silence of the library. Hermione looked up, peering at the young girl standing in front of her in surprise. She was maybe a first year student and looked terrified to be addressing a sixth year student.

"Can I help you?" Hermione asked, pasting a smile on her face and pretending that the interruption wasn't an inconvenience.

"Erm… are you Hermione Granger?" the little Hufflepuff girl asked her, her cheeks blooming a becoming pink with her nervousness.

"Yes, I am," Hermione confirmed, frowning a little now wondering what the little girl possibly wanted.

The girl's fearful face smoothed into an expression of relief.

"Oh good. I've been looking for you. Professor Dumbledore asked me to deliver this to you when I was on my way out of the Great Hall after lunch. I asked all my friends and they all knew who you were but we didn't know where to find you. Eventually a fourth year boy overheard me asking everyone where I could find you and he told me that you're usually in the library."

"Ok. Erm… well thank you," Hermione said, frowning as she took the rolled up scroll of parchment from the girl.

"That's ok. I'm sorry it took me so long. And I think Professor Dumbledore said it was rather urgent, so maybe you might want to go and see him now…." The girl said, "Well…. Goodbye."

With that she skipped away and Hermione could tell the little thing was pleased to have successfully completed her task. Shaking her head fondly as she remembered her own time as a first year, Hermione unfurled the scroll of parchment, wondering what Dumbledore wanted.

**_Dear Miss Granger,_**

**_I hope this finds you well. Please report to my office as a matter of some urgency at your earliest convenience. Be aware that this meeting may take up a rather large amount of your evening and prepare for this before arriving._**

**_Sincerely,_**

**_Professor Albus Dumbledore._**

**_P.S. I am particularly fond of sugar mice._**

Hermione stared at the note of summons for a moment before sighing as she glanced back at the Defence Against the Dark Arts essay she had been working on for Snape that was due tomorrow.

There was no way she was going to get it finished in time. Not if she was expected to spend any great amount of time with Dumbledore. What was wrong with the greasy git anyway? Who in their right mind would set a two thousand word essay on Dementors and their effectiveness as the guards of Azkaban Prison due one day after issue? Hermione knew she was one of the only students in the year likely to be able to submit anything of worth, and yet Snape insisted, even after she had protested, that there would be no extension on the time allowed.

Glaring at the half-written essay, Hermione waved her wand to pack up her belongings and carried the books she intended to check out over to the pinched librarian.

What in Merlin's beard could Dumbledore want with her that would take a while anyway?

Grumbling under her breath, Hermione stuffed the books into her bag before Banishing all of the belongings to her bed in the sixth year Gryffindor dormitory. She strode quickly through the halls, rolling her eyes when she strode past Lavender Brown giggling with Parvati about something. When she reached the entrance to Dumbledore's office Hermione gave the password and watched the gargoyle spring aside to reveal the staircase that led to the headmaster's private office and quarters.

She knocked when she reached the door and waited until she heard a call for her to enter before she opened the heavy door and strode into the office.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione called, seeing no movement in the office aside from Fawkes who trilled a greeting at her from his perch, "Hello Fawkes, is Professor Dumbledore in?"

The phoenix blinked at her and a moment later Hermione heard the soft voice of the Headmaster.

"Good Evening Miss Granger," he greeted her warmly.

"Hello Professor. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I did. How are you?"

"Sir?" Hermione asked, taken aback.

"I am enquiring after your health my dear. It is the polite way to begin a discussion, and I have much I wish to speak to you about this night." Dumbledore replied, smiling gently as he slipped into his high backed chair behind his desk.

Blushing Hermione nodded, "I'm well, sir. And you?"

"Troubled, I'm afraid," he told her, waving a hand at her to have a seat while he settled himself into the chair behind his desk, "Would you like a spot of tea?"

"Erm… if it's not too much trouble Professor," Hermione said to be polite. She watched in fascination as the man waved his wand and a tea tray with cups, saucers and all the other things needed for tea levitated over, the ingredients and utensils taking care of their own brewing and pouring. When Hermione looked back at the headmaster she found him watching her over her half-moon spectacles.

"Your studies are going well I trust?" he asked conversationally, sensing her discomfort.

"Yes, sir," Hermione confirmed.

"And I trust that Mr Potter has been keeping you informed on the goings on within my meetings with him?"

"He has, sir," she nodded.

"You are also aware of the work of the Order of the Phoenix and the dealings with Lord Voldemort?"

"To some extent, sir," Hermione replied, shifting in her seat, "Is everything alright, Professor? You haven't called me here to tell me that something's happened to my parents or anything, have you?"

"No my dear, as far as I am aware your parents are quite well," He smiled softly, reassuring her that they must be fine.

"Then if you don't mind my asking, sir, what is it you wanted to discuss with me?" Hermione said, "I don't mean to be rude or blunt, but I've an essay I need to finish for Professor Snape that is due tomorrow and I've barley just begun it."

"It seems unlike you to leave things until the last minute," he commented.

"He only set it in class this afternoon, sir," Hermione explained, "A two thousand word essay on the effectiveness of Dementors as the guards of Azkaban Prison. It's due by the beginning class tomorrow."

Professor Dumbledore frowned at that.

"That seems an unreasonably short amount of time to complete such a task."

"I suggested that to him sir, but he just snapped at me and took five points from me for back-talking him," Hermione explained.

"I will perhaps have a word to him. That's much too short a time for anything of worth from any but the absolute best students…. He has never been an easy man to deal with, but this is preposterous," Dumbledore mused and Hermione blushed to hear a teacher speaking ill of another teacher.

"It is actually Severus that I wanted to speak to you about Miss Granger," Dumbledore continued, "I trust you are aware that Severus is a spy for the Order, working to gather information and lay false trails for Tom Riddle regarding Harry and the movements of the Order?"

Hermione nodded.

"What Harry will not have told you as he is unaware of it, is that it was Severus who overheard the Prophecy that exists between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle and passed that information on to Voldemort before he joined our side many years ago."

Hermione opened her mouth in surprise, knowing exactly why Dumbledore had kept that particular nugget of information to himself. If Harry were to ever learn that it was because of Snape that Voldemort had begun hunting his parents in the first place Hermione wouldn't be at all surprised if Harry killed the man.

"A very unfortunate turn of events, one that Severus tried to rectify and caused his change in allegiance when he realised he had inadvertently doomed James and Lily Potter, causing their needless deaths, among the many others that were lost during the First War…."

Dumbledore was quiet for a while after that and Hermione picked up the tea cup that had drifted over to rest on the desk in front of her in order to have something to do, sensing that Professor Dumbledore was trying to gather his thoughts and meant to continue. And that he didn't want to hear any comment on Hermione's feelings about Snape for what he had done so far in the past.

"More than once these past thirty years there have been moments when I think to myself, '_if only there was some way we could do it again and do it differently'_…" Hermione lifted her eyes to stare at Dumbledore and wondered about the twinkle in those blue depths.

"It does not do to dwell on '_if onlys'_, Sir" Hermione murmured softly, frowning at the words of the Headmaster.

"Quite so, Miss Granger, for usually there is little that can be done to change the cast of the die once they are thrown…" he mused.

Hermione sipped her tea, wondering what any of this had to do with her.

"Do you recall your use of the Time-Turner during your third year Miss Granger?" he asked suddenly.

"Of course, sir. I used it to attend the many classes I was taking and to save Sirius and Buckbeak from being wrongly executed," Hermione replied immediately.

"Indeed," He murmured, "You recall all the rules that surrounded you being given permission to use a time-tuner, do you not?"

"I do. No using it to change anything more than twenty-four hours in the past, no using it to wreak havoc where there does not need to be any, and do not allow yourself to be seen."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Miss Granger, there are a great many things I must share with you this night, things you must share with no one else. Do you understand?"

"Yes Professor," Hermione said, frowning now at the higglty-pigglty mash-up of his train of thought and the way he kept hopping between topics.

"Very good…. the first thing I must share with you, is that I am going to die before the year is out."

Hermione stared, silently shaking her head in denial.

"It is true my dear," he said ruefully, lifting his hand and displaying a nasty, withered looking appendage, "A nasty curse I encountered that was designed to kill quickly upon contact. It has been contained, but it is slowly killing me. In any case, were it not true, I would still die."

"But Professor you're our best hope against Voldemort," Hermione protested.

"No my dear, Harry is our best and only hope…. Harry, and perhaps you."

"Sir?"

"Unfortunately I cannot share everything with you. What I brought you here to discuss Miss Granger, is the upcoming war. You know of the Horcruxes created by Voldemort, and I suspect you know that Harry will be in need of your help next year when he searches for them in the wake of my death. I hope he will be successful in getting all of them, however there is still the prophecy to contend with."

Dumbledore paused and glanced at Hermione as though to make certain she was following his train of thought.

"There is a very real chance that Harry will soon face Lord Voldemort on the Battlefield, and that when he does, he may die," Dumbledore announced, "And should Harry fall, all hope will be lost to the darkness, for no one else will be able to ever kill Tom Riddle. That my dear, is where I am hoping you will come in."

"Sir?" Hermione asked, completely confused and somewhat distressed by the idea of Harry dying and Voldemort winning.

"A back-up plan, if you will…," Dumbledore began, "I want to discuss with you the possibility of sending you back in time in the event that we lose the war Miss Granger."

"I don't understand," Hermione said, completely bewildered by what he was trying to tell her.

"You are one of the very few witches in the world to have ever experimented with a time-turner Miss Granger. As a last resort, should we lose the war, I would like to have in place a plan to rectify the situation. And while I thought about that idea, I kept coming back to my original wish…. If only there was some way to go back and fix things."

"But Sir, there is so much to fix," Hermione said. Dumbledore nodded.

"I have found a way to achieve my wish Miss Granger," He confided, leaning forward in the manner of one sharing a juicy secret, "I have in my possession a device that would allow me to send a single person back in time by a maximum of thirty years. I have no guarantee that you would survive the journey, however I know it is in fact possible to send living things back so far and have them live, as I tested it by sending back several Nifflers and leaving myself a note from thirty years in the past that the creature was sent from this time. Anything more than thirty years is unachievable unfortunately."

"Sir what are you saying?"

"I'm saying Miss Granger that should Harry fail, I have a mission for you in order to rewrite history," Dumbledore told her, "I'm saying I have found a way that we can keep all this from ever coming into being. It is a radical and drastic measure, but a necessary one I believe."

"And what would my task be going back that far?" Hermione asked, trying to grasp the situation.

"My plan would be to send you back to the first year Severus and many others that you know of -Remus and Sirius and James and Lily- arrived at Hogwarts. My plan would be to give you a De-Aging potion upon arrival and have you attend Hogwarts again as a student in their year. Your task would be to get yourself wilfully Sorted into Slytherin house, where you would befriend Severus Snape and several other students, a list of whose names I will give you shortly. Your task would be to attempt to sway them from the Dark Arts and from being such easy prey for Voldemort."

"How would I do that, sir?" Hermione asked, baffled now and wondering if Dumbledore had been drinking or perhaps spent too long in a small room breathing in the smoke, spores or essences of well-known illicit herbs.

"Many of these students, namely Severus, were ripe for the plucking by Voldemort and easily swayed to the Dark cause. They came from broken homes and unhappy backgrounds, many had no true friends in life and disturbing family backgrounds, so when they encountered Tom -who can be incredibly charming- they were easily swayed with a few kind words and the promise of power, of belonging to something, of creating a better world where those who believed themselves downtrodden and unappreciated would be popular and loved."

"You want to send me back in time thirty years to save some misfits?" Hermione asked incredulously, "Not to… I don't know, stop all the horrors from befalling people like Harry's parents or the Longbottoms, but to befriend people like Snape?"

Dumbledore watched her for a moment, "Well from right now it would be twenty-six years, but yes. However, you are not yet seeing the entire picture Miss Granger. Befriending people who turn to a monster because they have no one else could mean the difference between winning and losing, not just the second and upcoming war, but the first war. It could mean that Voldemort would be defeated many years ago and there would be no more death or fear any more. You would pass on vital information to the past me, information that would allow myself and many other members of the Order of the Phoenix advantages and a way in which to defeat Voldemort. I would know of the Horcruxes and the location of many of them. I would know that in order for him to be defeated we must find and destroy these Horcruxes. I would know to hide the Potters and the Longbottoms, to make sure the prophecy could never come into play. I would know to be Secret Keeper myself, rather than allowing James, Lily and Sirius to put trust in Peter Pettigrew."

He paused to take a breath and Hermione wondered if she had ever seen the headmaster so animated.

"Don't you see Miss Granger? We would be able to prevent such awful things. We would be _forewarned_."

As understanding finally dawned on Hermione she gasped, her eyes going wide.

"Professor…." She began, her mind racing ahead, "Why would you want to wait until this war is lost to do this?"

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"Well, if so much could be changed; could be fixed; then why wait until we really have gone to hell in a hand-basket? Why not send me now? Today?"

"Miss Granger you don't understand. I could very well send you today, but you would be years and years in the past. Everyone you know and love would not be the same, many would not yet even exist. You would be giving up everything. I meant to send you should the war be lost only as a last resort as many, if not all of the people you love might very well be dead or dying by then. To send you now, you would have to wilfully and knowingly give up your friendships, your family and life as you know it."

Hermione stared at him as she thought about that, wondering again at the twinkle in his eyes. Could she do it? Could she give up everything? Her friends and family, everything she loved; everything she held dear, would be gone. There would be no Harry or Ron or Ginny, no parents to write to when she was sad, no one to call friend and to depend on in any way. She would be utterly alone but for Dumbledore.

On the other hand, the things she could achieve…. James and Lily could survive to raise Harry. Sirius would never go to Azkaban or die in the Department of Mysteries. Remus wouldn't be left alone and friendless in a world prejudiced against him for his condition. Neville's parents would never be tortured by Bellatrix LeStrange… so many other countless deaths, both magical and muggle, would never happen if she could influence the right people. Dumbledore and the first Order of the Phoenix could battle against Voldemort, forewarned of his plans and the people he would target.

"But it would be worth it, sir," Hermione whispered finally, "It would be hard and confusing, stressful even. But think of the changes we could make….. I am no one all that important Professor; just a muggle-born witch who became friends with an important and famous wizard by chance. No one would know me so there would be no cause for concern of ever running into myself, and even if I did when I was born and came to Hogwarts, I would not know myself, so there would no risk of me going mad, and though I would miss being with Harry and Ron and Ginny, and the Weasley's and my parents….. Professor, think of how much better I could make everything for them. For Harry and Neville…. They could have real parents who could love them and take care of them. The Weasley's would be happy and healthy and would always stay that way."

"Do not be so quick to throw everything you hold dear away for the Greater Good, Miss Granger," Dumbledore cautioned her, "The price may be higher than you think. I myself once believed that sacrifices must be made for the greater good, and I paid the price."

Hermione deliberated for a moment.

"Would you do it, Sir?" she finally asked, "If you were me, would you go back as soon as possible to change things."

"That is not a fair way for you to judge the decision Miss Granger. I am an old man, one who has lived a long and fulfilling life. You are young, you have friends and loved ones whom you would always remember and would compare to the same people upon seeing them in the past. Were it me, yes I would. But you are not me. The decision must entirely be yours. I am happy to wait until after this war plays out before even considering sending you back, if that is what you choose…"

"My happiness is not worth more than the lives I could save and the happiness I could bring to others Professor," Hermione told him, her mind racing, "I will do it. Today. Is that possible?"

"There are things that we must prepare first Miss Granger, such as a collection of my own thoughts and memories and knowledge that I must extract and conceal within you, to pass onto the past me. You must also prepare, for yours will be a long and lonely task. You will remember everything you know of this life. Even when given a De-Aging Potion and returned to the age of eleven or perhaps twelve, you will still possess all the knowledge and mental maturity of a seventeen year old witch. It will be quite a shock to your senses, not just the journey, but the differences in the knowledge and technologies and ways of doing things that you know of now but have yet to come into being in the past. You will also need to gather anything you wish to have with you in the past, as mementos of your life here if you wish them. I would also recommend you pack anything of value to you, we will transport it with you in this."

He flicked his wand at one of the empty tea cups, transfiguring it into a purple beaded bag.

"I will put an undetectable extension charm on it to allow you to fit your belongings. I recommend things that will remind you in a non-obvious way of your life here. Perhaps the collection of jumpers Molly Weasley knitted for you. You will be able to fit into the old ones again when you take the De-Aging potion… As for your cat, I have sent back Nifflers in the past but I do not wish to risk having something malfunction, so I recommend asking Miss Weasley to mind him for you, in the event that this does not work.

I want you to understand Miss Granger that while this is in theory and in creature-testing a capability we possess, there is a very real chance that it will not work and you will die or become addled in the attempt," He finished gravely.

"I understand Professor. I would like to take the time to say goodbye to my friends, and to my parents. Is there any chance I can slip away to Hogsmede to take the Knight Bus?"

"I will make the arrangements," Dumbledore said softly, smiling gently at her bravery, "Be sure to make it memorable Miss Granger, not for them, but for yourself. You will never know and love them the same way as you do now. I will be sending Severus to accompany you to ensure your safety while you visit your parents. If I were you, I would use that time with him to try and have him reveal any information you think might be useful to you when you travel to the past in order to befriend the eleven year old boy he once was…. Come back to my office when you are ready."


	2. Chapter 2:Making it Memorable

**Chapter 2: Making it Memorable**

When Hermione left Dumbledore's office, she felt the weight in her chest of the decision she had made. She was going back in time. Leaving all this behind in favour of a life that may or may not be enjoyable. She might not even achieve anything, she might just die in the attempt, or Merlin forbid, make things worse.

Biting her lip, Hermione headed for the Great Hall, suspecting her friends would likely be at dinner.

She stopped in the doorway when she saw them sitting and laughing together and she blinked several times as she tried to burn the image into her memory to keep with her forever. Harry, his hair wild and sticking up all over the place as his glasses fogged up over his steaming pile of mashed potato and sausages. Ginny, laughing about something, both of them dressed in their Quidditch uniforms. Ron was there too, also dressed for practice, chewing with his mouth open and laughing at something Harry had said.

She chose to ignore the fact that Lavender was there too, simpering and sighing over Ron. Looking around the table, she also spotted Neville and Seamus sitting together, Seamus missing an eyebrow from his latest pyrotechnics mishap while Neville poked and prodded at some potted plant he'd brought to dinner with him.

"Are you alright Hermione?" a dreamy voice came from beside her and Hermione looked over to see Luna standing beside her frowning in concern, "You look like you've just had a wrackspurt fly into your ear and make your brain go fuzzy."

Hermione laughed.

"Would you like to have dinner at Gryffindor table Luna?" Hermione asked her, "I'd like to hear more about wrackspurts."

"Oh that would be lovely," Luna said, smiling. Hermione smiled back and looped her arm through Luna's, leading her over to the table.

"Hermione!" Harry called happily, "Where've you been? We looked for you in the library when we got in from practice to have dinner but we couldn't find you."

"Oh, I've been around," Hermione said, "There were some things I needed to discuss with Professor Dumbledore."

Everyone looked at her oddly and Harry raised his eyebrows. Hermione smiled secretively.

"How was practice?" She asked them as she sat down.

"Oh it was great, Ginny's been teaching the other chasers this new technique and Ron's been really improving on his goal-keeping. We're definitely going to thrash Ravenclaw, Luna," Harry said, winking at the dreamy girl in greeting.

Hermione sighed happily, soaking in the familiar moment as she listened to her friends as they discussed training and quidditch, listening to Harry ask her how she was going with the essay for Snape in a voice that told her he was going to ask to see hers later.

A while later, Hermione leaned over to say softly to Ginny, "Listen, Ginny…. You're the most wonderful friend I've ever had…. If…. If anything happens to me…. Could you look after Crookshanks? Make sure he's taken care of and happy?"

"What's going to happen to you?" Ginny and Harry both asked sharply in low voices.

"Nothing… but if it ever does, you know, could you just…. Make sure he's safe?"

"Of course Hermione," Ginny replied, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes. I love both of you, so much," she whispered to them, feeling a lump begin to form in her throat.

"Oh Hermione," Ginny said, her own eyes filling even as the girl dragged her into a warm hug, "You know we all love you too. And nothing's going to happen to you. We'll always be together."

Hermione squeezed her friend tight and she sighed wistfully when Luna drew Ginny into conversation.

"What's going on Hermione?" Harry asked her, his voice low as he leant in close to whisper into her ear. Hermione turned to look at him. Drinking in the sight of the boy who was the closest thing she'd ever had to having a brother. She opened her eyes wide, allowing the image of him to fill up her vision. Those emerald green, almond shaped eyes behind his smudged spectacles. That messy black hair sticking up all over the place no matter how much he tried to pat it down and get it to lie flat.

His kind face and concerned frown as he waited for her to answer him. Hermione couldn't resist as she brought her hand up to cup his cheek affectionately. Harry frowned more, worried now.

"I'm going to make everything better," she whispered to him, "I'm going to fix it. I'm going to make sure you're happy and safe Harry."

"What are you talking about? I already am those things," Harry said, bewildered.

"Harry… if you could see your parents just once more, and Sirius too, what would you say to them?" She asked him softly.

He looked surprised by the question, "I don't know… That I love them… That I miss them… that we'll be together again one day," He responded.

Hermione bit her lip as her eyes filled again.

"You're so wonderful, Harry. So brave, so humble….. Never change."

"Hermione, you're worrying me," he told her, taking her hand from his cheek and squeezing it.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to. You're the closest thing I have to having a brother…. I just want you to be safe and happy."

Harry frowned, pulling her into a reassuring hug.

"Why do I feel like you're trying to say goodbye?" Harry murmured into her ear. Hermione just squeezed him tighter, breathing in the scent of his soap and the airy scent of his clothes from flying.

He stared into her eyes frowning.

"I'm going home tonight, for a bit," Hermione told him, "I have to see my parents. I just want to make sure that you all know I love you… just in case."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"You'll be fine 'Mione. And you know we love you too."

As he went back to his food, he kept glancing at her worriedly. Hermione smiled reassuringly before turning her gaze on Ron. She'd not spoken to him properly in weeks.

"Ronald?" Hermione said, watching the way he froze mid-chew to glance up at her in surprise while Lavender began staring daggers at her "Could I speak to you for a moment?"

Ron gulped as Hermione got up but he followed her in spite of Lavender's protests. Halfway down the table in a place where they were mostly alone and not likely to be overheard, Hermione sat back down. Ron dropped into his seat next to her.

Hermione took a deep breath in and held it, debating whether or not to tell him the truth about her feelings.

"Hermione?" he asked when she held her breath in silence for several minutes.

"You're a right git, you know?" Hermione informed him.

"Blimey Hermione," Ron exclaimed in surprise when she turned to look at him, "What have I done now?"

"Did you ever even have the slightest clue that I've been in love with you for years?" Hermione asked, throwing it all in, after all, she was going back in time, she'd be in her thirties the next time she saw Ronald Weasley.

"Wh-What?" Ron stuttered in surprise.

"That's why I've been so mad at you and avoiding you when you're with Lavender. I'm in love with you. I think I have been since fourth year…."

"Bloody hell!" Ron breathed and Hermione laughed when she saw the expression he wore when he was thinking that all women were totally barmy.

"I just thought you should know, and wanted to ask if you realised," Hermione said frankly.

"Well, I mean…. I wondered when you got your knickers in a twist about me and Lav…. But then you stopped talking to me so…" Ron stuttered out.

Hermione nodded.

"I'm going to miss you," Hermione said, looking into his familiar blue eyes.

"What do you mean? Are you going somewhere? Did Dumbledore give you some kind of assignment or something?"

"Yes. He did. I haven't told Harry or Ginny. But it means you might never see me again. So I thought you should know before I go that I'm in love with you and it really hurt me when you got together with Lavender."

Before he could respond, Hermione leaned over and hugged him tight.

A part of her wanted to tell him not to forget her, but she knew it would be stupid since she was going back in time and he would have no choice.

"I'll never forget you Ron," Hermione whispered before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

With that said and the most important goodbyes done, Hermione got up and walked over to the teachers table, recalling her mission.

"Professor Snape, could I speak with you for a moment? In private?" Hermione asked him, staring into the dark eyes of the Potions Master turned DADA teacher.

"If this is about the essay, Miss Granger," he warned her in that low, hissing voice, his eyes flashing at being interrupted during his evening meal.

"It's not. It's about something else. Please sir, it won't take long," Hermione said.

Sighing as though she was insufferable, Snape got to his feet and stalked towards the Entrance Hall, his black robes billowing behind him.

"Ah, Severus, Hermione. Just the two people I was looking for" Dumbledore appeared in the doorway looking cheerful, "What were you doing?"

"I was going to ask Professor Snape a few questions," Hermione replied for the both of them, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "Like you instructed."

"Excuse me?" Snape demanded.

"Indeed. Severus, Miss Granger has been instructed by me to ask you several questions and I would appreciate it if you could be as honest with her as possible, without losing your temper. In addition to that, I have arranged it so that you will be able to travel to visit your parents and gather any of the items you will require for your assignment Hermione. Severus, you will accompany Miss Granger to her family home as it is unsafe for a muggle-born witch to be travelling at night alone on the Knight Bus."

Snape looked utterly outraged by both pieces of information and Hermione found herself hoping that he hadn't always been so nasty and difficult, since it was about to become her task to befriend the younger version of the hook-nosed man in front of her.

"I take it you will brook no arguments on this matter nor provide any form of explanation," He replied, lips curling in irritation.

"Miss Granger will explain the situation to you as she sees fit while you travel to her family home in London. Severus, it is vital that you answer all of her questions truthfully and without losing your temper. I would also insist that you acquiesce to any and all requests she makes of you, knowing that she is doing so under my instruction for an assignment she has been given for the Order," Dumbledore replied.

While they spoke, movement caught Hermione's eye and she watched Draco Malfoy descend the stairs. She didn't know why, but as she watched him, Hermione found herself recalling Dumbledore's words earlier that she should make sure her goodbye was memorable. She giggled a little as an idea struck.

"Very well. Miss Granger?" Snape growled, looking less than pleased at the lecture and at being instructed so.

"Just hold that thought Professor, there's one little thing I need to do before I go," Hermione said.

Malfoy wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings, his shoulders hunched and his face downturned as Hermione darted across the Entrance Hall, intercepting his path to the Great Hall. Before he had time to register that it was her, Hermione purposely bumped into him, and when he lifted his head to glare at whoever had the audacity not to move out of his way, Hermione struck.

Pressing herself firmly against him, Hermione reached up and planted her lips on his, snogging him soundly. At first he was so shocked that he didn't react, and then he seemed to war with himself because while one of his arms wrapped around her back pressing her closer, the other clamped down on her shoulder, attempting to shove her backwards even though he was holding her against him.

When he actually kissed back, Hermione slipped her tongue into his mouth, surprised by the minty fresh taste of him. She nearly keeled over in surprise to learn he was an excellent snogger as his tongue flicked out to meet hers, stroking assuredly in a way that sort of made her weak in the knees. From behind her closed lids, Hermione could hear the intake of breath from Dumbledore and Snape, and she heard the footsteps of someone leaving the hall stutter to a stop before running away again followed by a shout.

"Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are snogging out here!" some gleeful voice shouted and Hermione felt Malfoy tense against her as it occurred to him that he was actually kissing an unknown party without pausing to see who it was. Smirking against his lips even as they both pulled back, Hermione found that it was definitely worth ticking this particular notion off her bucket list.

He glared down at her in open mouthed horror while Hermione smirked at the fact that she'd messed up his neatly combed hair by running her hands through it.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing Granger?" Malfoy demanded, looking outraged as his horror grew when he realised it really was her and that he still had one arm looped around her as though he meant to pull her closer again. Behind her she could hear the scraping of benches and patter of feet as the majority of the inhabitants in the Great Hall rushed to see the spectacle of two enemies snogging so publicly.

"Not bad Malfoy," Hermione replied, slipping out of his grip and beginning to stalk away from him.

"You can't just…" Malfoy began furiously but Hermione spun back, cutting him off when she pressed her fingers to his lips to silence him.

"It's too late Malfoy, it's done," She told him unapologetically, "You've officially snogged a mudblood. Make sure your father hears about this."

Turning and leaving him sputtering in his fury, Hermione strode back over to Snape and Dumbledore. The latter had an amused and curious tinkle in his eyes.

"Make it memorable, right?" Hermione said, winking at the Headmaster.

"Indeed. Fifty points to Gryffindor!" he replied before striding over to a still stammering Malfoy, "Ah, Mr Malfoy, so good to see you. You look troubled, but fear not young man, all your troubles will soon be inconsequential."

"Shall we be off, Professor?" Hermione asked cheerfully, pretending not to notice the flurry of students that were crowded in the door of the Great Hall having heard of the spectacle she'd just made with Malfoy.


	3. Chapter 3: An Honest Discussion

**A/N: Hey y'all. **

**So I've noticed a lot of curiosity about how I've started this fic and Destiny Beckons at the same time and how they are both time-travel Sevione fics. Your concern and curiosity is touching, however, for those of you who don't know my work, I have a knack for writing the same characters in a lot of different scenarios. Those of you silly dear who do know my work and have been following my colossal amount of Dramione fics, you should know better than to think they'll be anything other than totally shocking. Never fear, they aren't going to be anything alike and your concerns that they will either be too similar in plotline or that one/both will be abandonned are all for nought. That should become clear as I upload some of the newer chapters. **

**I also never abandon a story, (even if some of my works haven't been updated in an embarrassingly long time) so don't sweat it. If I've started it, I will see it finished. Even if it takes longer than I hoped. Now, I have several chapters pre-written for the stories I'm currently uploading, (Howl for Me ~ The Accursed Twenty-Eight ~ Deceptive Hearts ~ Destiny Beckons ~ Of Ticking Clocks and Beating Hearts). Any of my other WIPs around the site are currently at the end of their pre-written chapters, so I'll be updating those sporadically. **

**Don't worry, I'm improving at juggling them all. :-)**

**A huge thanks to all of you who've been reading and reviewing. And I hope you like the rest of the story. xx-Kitten**

**Chapter 3: An Honest Discussion**

"Have you lost your mind?" Snape asked her, his deep baritone voice sounding very shocked indeed.

"Of course not, Sir," Hermione assured him, "I've just gained a new perspective on life."

"And would you care to explain why it is that the Headmaster has seen fit to grant you permission to leave the protection of the school grounds?"

"All in good time Professor," Hermione grinned, enjoying the scowl on his face at her words, "First I have many, many questions to ask you. Would you like me to start off with easy, non-threatening questions?"

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, gliding along next to her.

"I think it would be best if I did," Hermione said, feeling chipper and practically skipping along the path towards Hogsmede, "So tell me Professor, what do you like most about yourself?"

"What is the meaning of these impertinent questions?" He demanded, clearly less than pleased.

"Professor Dumbledore has given me an assignment. And important part of which, involves me learning about you Professor Snape. And since I have many, many more personal and invasive questions, I'm trying to warm you up to sharing with me."

"This is utterly ridiculous."

"Professor Dumbledore doesn't think so. What do you like best about yourself?"

"My intellect," he replied through gritted teeth and Hermione realised it was going to be very much like trying to wrestle silver away from a Niffler to get answers out of him.

"If you could change on thing about yourself, what would it be?" Hermione shot back straight away.

"My past," he responded, glaring daggers at her even though they walked side-by-side.

"Why? What would you change about the past?" Hermione asked him, "If you could go back right now, what would you change?"

He looked royally annoyed by her question, glaring down his hooked nose at her.

"What does this have to do with any assignment for the Order that I would be unaware of?" He countered.

"Everything. Answer me," Hermione replied.

"I am still your Professor and you will address me as such!" He snarled.

Hermione shook her head.

"For the purpose of this undertaking, you are no longer my Professor or of any elevated status to me. I am no longer a student of Hogwarts and you are of no more authority over me than I am over you. Answer my questions or I won't have all the information I need and so will jeopardise the entire cause that the Order of the Phoenix works so hard to achieve. What would you change about your past?"

"I would take back some things I said to a person who was important to me and I would never allow myself to have been seduced by the Dark Arts and the Dark Lord."

"Why did you become a Death Eater?"

"Why are you an insufferable know-it-all?" Snape fired back and Hermione realised that there was going to have to be a little bit of give and take if she wanted more answers.

"Because as a muggle-born I arrived at Hogwarts with no real understanding of the magical world and many of my classmates had been raised knowing such things. I arrived at a disadvantage and to make up for it I studied. I found I enjoyed learning almost everything to do with the magical world and wanted to fit in as I had been unsuccessful on that front surround by muggle children as a girl," She told him honestly and Snape curled his lip at her in a fierce sneer.

"I'm still waiting to know why you became a Death Eater," Hermione said several long minutes later as they passed through the school gates.

"I didn't fit in either," Snape growled, "I was too much of a know-it-all regarding the Dark Arts when I arrived because I had been taught to read by my mother and her reading material for me was textbooks on dark magic. I sympathised with the cause of believing that wizards were better than muggles because the only example of interactions I had ever had with muggles were poor and unpleasant."

"Why were they unpleasant?" Hermione asked him curious in spite of herself. Snape glared at her and Hermione could tell she was very quickly entering into territory he did not want to discuss.

She watched him throw out his wand arm with a violent swipe through the air to summon the Knight Bus and answered her in the silence that followed as they waited for the bus to appear.

"Because my muggle father was abusive and a drunk. He cowed my mother, a once powerful witch, into giving up magic and hated me for embracing it. The only other muggles I encountered were cruel children."

"They do always seem to sense the difference," Hermione mused, "They picked on me as a child as well, as though they could sense that I was magical and therefore different from them."

"They knew I was," Snape sneered, "Because I set them on fire and used my magic against them. They knew I was different because they feared me."

"So fear is the driving force you use to repel others in order to keep them from getting too close and allowing them the chance to hurt you?" Hermione clarified, though it was more of a speculation than a question and she could tell the Professor was less them pleased with her summation.

"I had already suspected as much based on the way you run your classes and act in general, though I had believed you simply despised children, and so couldn't understand why you became a teacher," Hermione continued pretending not to notice his scowl.

They both fell back in shock when the triple-decker purple bus appeared in front of them and Hermione smirked to herself to know that she had unsettled him so much with her questions that he was unprepared for a change.

"Welcome to the Knight bus!" began a nasally voice.

"Thank you, we've been on before; we don't need your spiel. Two tickets to Branxton Street in London please," Hermione interrupted the conductor as she got to her feet and stepped onto the bus, Snape right behind her.

He tried to interrupt by pushing her to one side but Hermione handed over the money for their tickets before he could pay for his own, knowing he would complain otherwise.

"What were you like as a child?" Hermione asked him as they were given their tickets and made their way towards their seats even as the conductor explained it would be a while before they returned to London as they were currently bounding north.

"How is that in any way going to be useful to some kind of assignment now?" Snape demanded, grumpier than usual.

"I'll just bet you were a delight," Hermione replied sarcastically.

"I've not changed," he told her sneeringly as he took his seat beside her, making Hermione sit in the window seat to ensure no one could snatch her out of the aisle.

"Oh, delightful!" Hermione muttered, "Why have you always been so disagreeable? Other than that you use bad attitude to keep people away from you. Why don't you like people?"

"People don't like me" he responded without looking at her and Hermione realised that she was learning far more about him than most would ever bother and that kind of made her sad.

"Because of your attitude?" Hermione prodded. Snape turned his cold black eyes on her, letting her see that they glittering with malice.

"Before I had ever spoken a word in your first Potions class, did you like me?" he asked instead of answering her question.

Hermione looked him over.

His black hair was long, and somewhat oily, though so close Hermione realised the black strands were actually quite silky, rather than being as greasy as she'd originally thought. His nose was the most prominent feature on his sallow face, long and hooked, it was an imposing specimen and not really all that attractive, though she supposed it could be considered a 'strong Roman-nose'. His teeth were rather crooked, and yellowed somewhat in the manner of a person who regularly forgets to brush and floss.

His hair hung long about his face and Hermione suspected he wore it that way because he was able to hide behind the twin curtains somewhat. She suspected on closer inspection that he cared little for his appearance due to his superior intellect and she wondered suddenly if he suffered some kind of mild social impairment. His heightened intelligence and lowered social skills certainly suggested it.

"I respected you, and thought you were a little bit scary because you glared so often," Hermione answered honestly. Snape's scowl deepened, "But I didn't dislike you. I didn't start to dislike you somewhat until you repeatedly degraded and ridiculed me for trying to help Neville in class when he was so terrified of you that he bumbled things up. And I was rather miffed that you felt the need to ask questions and proceeded to degrade and ridicule the entire class when no one but me had the answer, though you continually refused to let me answer them."

"Perhaps if you were smart you would learn to stop being so insufferable in your incessant need to answer everything," He countered.

"Perhaps if you were, you would stop asking questions in class if you don't want anyone to answer them," Hermione replied snidely.

"Ten points from…"

"Don't bother," Hermione interrupted him before he could finish, "After tonight everything will change. There's no use you speaking to me like I'm just a student anymore. The fact of the matter is that I'm no longer your student. There is little use speaking to me or treating me like I am."

"Exactly what kind of assignment is this?" Snape demanded, looking intrigued and irritable at the same time.

"The kind that changes absolutely everything," Hermione replied.

"How?"

"If we had been in the same year at Hogwarts, would you have been mean to me?" Hermione asked him rather than answering.

"Would you have been mean to me?" he shot back.

"No."

"Given your current friends, I doubt that very much," Snape growled snidely.

"Because I'm friends with Harry and you hated his father?" Hermione asked.

Snape didn't reply but his dark expression was enough to answer the question.

"From what I've heard I wouldn't have approved of James and Sirius's actions when they were in Hogwarts anyway. And if you were so much of an anti-social know-it-all, maybe we'd have been friends."

Snape glared at her for a long time after that, but Hermione remained quiet, sensing that he was appraising her as he never had before.

"You'd have been the interfering type that would've done more damage by trying to help," he said cryptically.

"Harry told me that James and the Marauders were cruel to you," Hermione admitted, "And yes, I would have interfered, trying to help you."

The expression of Snape's face was fierce.

"Meddlesome Gryffindors," he muttered sometime later as they bounced down some bumpy country high in the Scottish mountains.

"Why did you join the ranks of the Death Eaters?" Hermione asked after casting a muffliato spell - something that earned her a peculiar wide-eyed expression.

"I was disliked and trying to fit in with others in Slytherin," Snape replied much later, "I had an unhealthy fascination with the Dark arts and joining their ranks provided an opportunity not just to explore those darker things, but also to excel at them and be praised for their use – the more creative the better – rather than admonished and scorned for such talents."

Hermione nodded in understanding. It made sense.

"Do you think that if things had been different in your life, you would've been less easily swayed to the dark cause?" Hermione asked mildly.

"Different how?" he asked and Hermione realised that beneath his prickly exterior he was a curious person, especially when it came to the idea of a student being given a secret assignment that mean she had to question him about his life.

"Well, what if you'd been taught that muggles weren't all awful? Would that have made you less likely to join a group killing and torturing them?"

"Perhaps," he said in a tone that made Hermione suspect he still wasn't overly fond of muggles. When she took note of his robes and appearance she could guess why.

"What about if you'd had better friends, ones less inclined towards the dark side?"

"I had one but she was in a different house and was muggle-born, she also refused to speak to me when I spoke out of turn in anger and refused to be my friend anymore."

"Did it matter to you that she was muggle-born?" Hermione asked curiously.

"No."

"Does it matter to you that I am? Do you think less of me because my parents are muggles."

"Not for that reason, no," he sneered, smirking cruelly now.

"But you do have a low opinion of me?"

"You imagine yourself to be of far more importance to me than you actually are," Snape replied nastily

"Why do you have a low opinion of me?" Hermione pressed, knowing that such information would be vital when attempting to befriend the child-version of him.

"You are insufferable," he told her, "You lack even the most basic amount of control not to speak out of turn when you know the answer to something, even if you are not called upon to answer it. You have poor taste in friends and diminish your own intelligence by being friends with a pair of dunderheaded fools whom – without you doing their homework for them – would have failed their first year at Hogwarts. You further diminish your own intelligence by accepting everything you read as being fact. You make no effort to question the findings of others, a fact that was blatantly obvious when you failed to see the incorrect ingredient quantities within potions and so brewed mediocre potions rather than experimenting and discovering more effective ways to achieve the task at hand. You lack creativity and while you possess an above average memory – allowing you to regurgitate the information you absorb on command – you do not actually possess high levels of intelligence."

Hermione was aware of the fact that her face was crimson and that her mouth was open in silent protest at his accusations, but he clearly wasn't finished if that evil glitter in his black eyes was any indication.

"Your own use of logic – while commendable given that the rest of the world seems to ignore logistics – is what holds you back from perhaps becoming a renowned discoverer. To you, it is logical that spells would not be published in text books unless they were correctly documented and approved by the Ministry. You are limited by that logic because you fail to realise that magic is an entity, a fabric with which you can create absolutely anything by using the right amount of creativity, intent, and intelligence. You fail to see that if you have a need of some kind of spell, you would not need to look one up that might be close to what you want, but rather could create your own, tailored to your specific need."

He paused for another breath and Hermione wasn't sure whether she should feel insulted or stupid.

"Frankly Miss Granger, I have a low opinion of you because you walk around with an inflated sense of self-worth based on what is really nothing more than a photographic memory. You and many others believe that you are the 'brightest witch of your age' when it is an undeserved title due to your limited and rather poorly endowed competition. Is it really greatness to be better at running than beings who've no legs?"

"Branxton Street, London!" The conductor announced over the radio as the bus jerked to a stop on Hermione's street.

"This is my stop," she told Snape curtly, less than pleased at what he had said about her. He looked particularly pleased to have angered her and Hermione nettled all the more, wanting to hex him. Mostly it was because he'd hit some particularly sensitive nerves. She was well aware of that fact that she lacked an overly creative mind. She knew too that it wasn't really that much of an accomplishment to use her memory where others did not. Especially since she actually did have a photographic memory.

As they stepped off the bus onto the quiet suburban street where her parents lived, Hermione realised that she really was going to have her work cut out for her trying to befriend Snape in some way that would keep him from turning to Voldemort. Mostly because she would have to learn how to be his friend when he clearly didn't think very much of her and was far smarter than most people realised.

"So what you're saying," Hermione began as she walked slowly down the deserted street towards her parent's place, "Is that you think I'm stupid simply because I'm not creative?"

"You are foolish not to question what you are told," he replied, gliding along next to her looking like an over-grown bat when his cloak billowed in the breeze.

"Isn't it considered disrespectful to question your elders?" Hermione countered, "I seem to recall that you don't like to be questioned on judgements you make and things you say."

"That is because I'm far smarter than you will ever be and not only can, but _have_ considered each of my assertions from every possible angle before I make them. Questioning me is foolish. However, to not question something you read is downright stupidity."

"Do you mean the way certain things are published as being fact when there are more effective ways to do them, such as more effective ways to brew potions than those published in the potions manuals?" Hermione asked, suddenly recalling Harry's copy of their sixth year potions book that had so many recipes tampered with in such ways that he was outstripping her in class.

"Indeed," Snape replied and Hermione rankled at his bored tone.

As they reach the front gate to her parent's house, Hermione reached over and took his arm.

"What do you think you are doing?" Snape demanded, eyeing her dangerously.

"Given that I have warded my parent's house to ensure that no magical being but myself can enter, I have to escort you or rather unpleasant consequences may befall you," Hermione told him shortly.

He didn't say anything when Hermione felt her wards ripple over both of them, releasing him once they were through the front gate. She could see his curled lip as he looked at her parent's stately townhouse while she used magic to unlock the front door. He jumped slightly when she took his hand on the stoop and led him through the now open front door. Hermione was surprised by the fact that his hand was warm inside her own. She'd expected that he would be as cold to touch as his personality was to experience.

"Mum? Dad?" Hermione called once they were in the hall, walking down the hall, surprised that her parents hadn't come to investigate the sound of the front door opening and closing. She jumped when Snape walked into her as she stopped to peer into the lounge room.

"Is anyone home?" she called out, suddenly feeling apprehensive when Snape stepped around until he was in front of her, his wand drawn while he muttered spells.

"There isn't anyone else here," he informed her and Hermione narrowed her eyes. Dashing into the kitchen, Hermione went to the large well-mapped calendar on the wall.

"They're at a board meeting," she announced loudly before realising that Snape had followed behind her, "And won't be home until after ten. So it looks like we'll have to wait."

"What is so important about your assignment that you had to see your parents so desperately?" Snape demanded looking less than pleased.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Hermione asked instead of answering him, rather enjoying his anger after he had been so blunt about his low opinion of her.

"Black with sugar," he replied curtly, nostrils flaring menacingly at her audacity.

Hermione set about making the tea while he loomed impatiently.

"You never finished answering my questions, you know," Hermione reminded him, "About whether or not having things be different in your life would have kept you from becoming a Death Eater. Do you think you would've been swayed from it if you'd had friends in Slytherin who weren't interested in the dark arts? Who were really your friends rather than 'business associates' or whatever stupid arrangement Slytherins claim to have in the place of friendship?"

"What is the meaning of this?" Snape demanded instead, "What possible assignment could you have been given that would require knowledge about me, let alone require prodding about with ridiculous 'what if' scenario-based questions?"

"Something that is highly dangerous and requires that I give up my life," Hermione replied, "So you better make sure you give me truthful, helpful answers because if I give it all up armed with false information I'm going to personally murder you."

Snape eyed her nastily after that but Hermione could still see the curiosity burning in those fathomless black pools.

"Real, loyal friends might have helped," he answered finally as Hermione brought him a cup of tea.

"Did your attitude make having such friends easy to attain?" Hermione asked, smirking at him when he choked on the sip of tea he'd just taken at her insolence.

"What is the point of having friends if you have to pretend to be something you're not in order to gain and keep their friendship?" He countered when he'd recovered and Hermione found herself nodding at the insight.

"If I'd been there, would you have let me be your friend?" Hermione asked him probingly and didn't much like the way he curled his lip at her.

"You're a Gryffindor and insufferable," Snape replied.

"What if I'd been in Slytherin? The Sorting Hat considered putting me there."

"Really?" he asked mildly and Hermione suspected that little piece of information surprised him. Hermione nodded, realising she'd just handed over a secret she'd never told anyone else. She'd never even told Harry when he'd mentioned something about the Hat wanting to put him in Slytherin.

"Yes. It seems I'm rather cunning with my logic when I want to be," Hermione told him.

"I doubt that. Cunning requires a modicum of creativity in order to think of ways to outsmart people."

"I regularly think of ways to outsmart people," Hermione replied.

"Stupid people," Snape replied sneeringly.

"I outsmarted the test you put in place to keep anyone from being able to access the Philosopher's Stone when I was in first year," Hermione replied, enjoying his unpleasant thunderstruck scowl.

After that they both drank their tea in silence, Hermione hiding a small, pleased smiled behind her mug at his expression.

"Well, are you coming?" she asked when he set his empty cup down finally.

"Coming where?" he asked warily, eyeing her suspiciously for the way she was smiling broadly now.

"My bedroom, of course."


	4. Chapter 4: Part of the Plan

**Chapter 4: Part of the Plan**

"I beg your pardon?" He demanded and Hermione suspected it might have been the most polite sounding thing Snape had ever said to her.

"I asked you to join me in my bedroom," Hermione clarified, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth when she noticed his uncomfortable and entirely concerned expression at such a notion.

"Why would I do that?" he asked, his lip curling and Hermione could tell he was taking offense to the idea of her possibly toying with him in some way.

"Part of my mission requires that I amend my virginal status, sir," Hermione said, having entirely too much fun watching the way he choked on the last sip he'd taken of his tea, "And we only have so long to accomplish that task before my parents return from their meeting."

"If you think for even a second….." He began but Hermione cut him off.

"Professor Dumbledore did instruct you to follow all of my directives without question, sir," she told him, trying very hard to hide her smirk of amusement.

"I sincerely hope, for your sake, that you are joking Miss Granger," Snape warned her.

"Not at all Professor. You wouldn't want me to die a virgin, would you?"

"That is none of my business," he growled, looking somewhat ill at the prospect.

"Of course it's your business, after all, my mission demands that I simply cannot enter into it whilst remaining a virgin, and due to the nature of my assignment, it can't be just anyone who deflowers me."

"This is not an amusing joke Miss Granger," Snape told her, rising to his feet and looking like he'd very much like to hex her, "You have been trying my patience all evening, but this is going too far."

"I'm sorry if this upsets you sir, but I can assure you this is no joke."

"You expect me to believe that Professor Dumbledore asked you to undertake some kind of secret mission that calls for a sexual relationship between you and I?"

"It's not as though I'm a child," Hermione told him, having to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling at his reaction, "I am of age after all, and as such I am able to consent and to undertake assignments for the Order that will likely change absolutely everything - if I am successful. Now, are you going to continue to look affronted and act like a blushing teenager about this or are you going to join me in my bedroom? We don't have all night, you know?"

Snape curled his lip at her in the manner Hermione recognised as the expression worn by cranky animals and she turned away from him, pretending to stomp as she exited the kitchen and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She had to stop looking at him or she was going to laugh and ruin the joke. It was entirely too much fun to torment him knowing that there was nothing he could do to punish her.

When she reached her familiar childhood bedroom, Hermione sighed softly. Everything was just as she'd left it and immediately Hermione made her way to her closet, the purple bag Dumbledore had given her - the one with the Undetectable Extension harm on it - swinging from her wrist while she dug around for all her old Weasley jumpers and some other clothes she still had from the time when she was eleven or younger. After all, she would be taking a De-Aging Potion so it stood to reason that much of the clothing she had outgrown would soon fit her again.

"What are you doing?" that cool voice asked her and Hermione smirked before biting her lip and turning to look over her shoulder to see that Snape had joined her. He was loitering in her bedroom doorway looking entirely uncomfortable but scowling enough to still appear fierce and formidable.

"I was beginning to suspect you'd left," Hermione said, grinning just a little.

Snape's response was to leer at her, but it was clear to her that he was entirely too uncomfortable with the idea of what he'd been told he had to do to think of anything to say.

"Well," Hermione began, before pursing her lips, "Are you just going to loiter in my doorway, or are you going to come in?"

Scowling, his hand twitching towards the pocket where he kept his wand, Snape took a measured step into the room.

"This is utterly ridiculous," she heard him mutter as he took another step, glaring around her room now with distaste.

"It is, isn't it?" Hermione agreed, "Erm... if you wouldn't mind, I need you to sit over at my desk for a few minutes."

"Why?"

"Well because I'm still gathering my supplies for my assignment."

"You mean to tell me you want to prolong this awkwardness?" he demanded.

"Would you prefer to pre-awkwardness or the post-awkwardness in this particular situation?" Hermione retorted, "After all, my parents still aren't going to be home for a few hours, and I can't leave until after they've returned so..."

Snape's scowl deepened as he swiftly crossed the room and sat himself down in her desk chair.

Hermione grinned before going to her bookshelf and retrieving one of her books. She enjoyed the way he watched her like a hawk as she moved towards him slowly, almost hesitantly.

"Is this your approximation at keeping me entertained while you pack?" he sneered when he noticed it was a potions textbook. In spite of his cranky expression, Hermione could see the glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes at the prospect.

"Actually no. It is my understanding that you like to tamper with potion recipes in ways that make them more effective," Hermione told him, catching his surprise, "So I was hoping you would be able to make a copy of your version on how to make Wolfsbane Potion. I have some parchment here, since I can't take the whole book with me."

"You want me to write a potions recipe?" He asked, looking dubious.

"Feeling more like the student being given homework than the teacher, sir?" Hermione grinned at him.

He didn't deign to give her a response and chose instead to ask her a question.

"What could you possibly want with a revised version of the Wolfsbane potion?"

"I have need of it for my assignment," Hermione replied, "Besides, I would think this particular request would be far more agreeable to you than the request I made in the kitchen."

"You are entirely too contrary for your own good, Miss Granger," he informed her.

"It's been said before," Hermione grinned at him.

"What kind of assignment would call for Wolfsbane potion?" he demanded, smirking a little now.

"The kind that will bring me into contact with a werewolf," Hermione replied.

"Do you take pleasure in stating the obvious?"

"Sometimes, though usually I prefer to leave that to Harry or Ron. It encourages them to feel like they're contributing to a logical discussion without impinging on the delicate male ego."

Hermione didn't know if she or Snape was more surprised when he snorted in amusement.

"Very well then," Snape said, picking up one of Hermione's pen and tugging the piece of note-paper she'd torn from a notebook closer, "But in return for this potion recipe, you are going to explain to me why it is that you're currently packing clothing that looks like they belong to a child rather than an adult."

"I have a need for them," Hermione replied smoothly.

"What is so secretive about this assignment?" he demanded, curiosity clearly getting the better of him.

"I would think you, of all people, would be used to the idea of having secretive assignments that you cannot share details about."

"Perhaps, but when they call for me to deflower someone I find myself thinking I ought to be privy to the information."

"But that would result in your attempting to interfere with the assignment, which would be entirely detrimental to saving the wizarding world from war," Hermione told him, gathering together several pictures of herself and her parents and her friends and slipping them all into a small photo-album to take with her. It was ill-advised, but Hermione didn't want to go into the past without some memento of her life now.

"Why would I interfere with something like that? What could you possibly..." he trailed off and Hermione jumped when he was suddenly right behind her, gripping her biceps and spinning her to face him.

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded, squirming in his tight hold.

"You let that old fool talk you into being transported back in time?" he snarled into her face and Hermione found herself surprised by his height when he stood close enough that his body was almost pressed against the length of hers. Not to mention shocked that he had managed to figure it out on his own.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione replied evasively.

"Don't. Lie. To Me." he growled, enunciating each word slowly with a dangerous hiss, "I knew he'd been fantasising about such nonsense, but to have talked a student into... Have you lost your mind? You are going to die, Miss Granger."

"No I'm not, and Dumbledore didn't talk me into anything. When I was summoned to his office, he merely suggested that as a last resort, should we lose the second War that he would like to have a plan in place to alter things. It was me who talked him into not waiting until then."

"What could you possibly intend to achieve going back in time?" he demanded "More importantly, why would such a fool's errand require that you have knowledge about me... Oh no!"

His grip grew tighter on her arms, cutting off her circulation as he scowled down at her.

"You're not going back in time to meddle into my life Miss Granger."

"Whoever said I was?" Hermione asked innocently.

"You did."

"I did no such thing!"

"You lie!" he snarled, squeezing her arms even tighter.

"You're hurting me," Hermione hissed back, glaring up into his face, "So I recommend that you let me go right now."

Hermione gasped when he shoved her back hard enough that she fell against her bed, her arms aching from his tight grip and her heart hammering in her chest.

"You will not be going!" he informed her.

"How do you propose to stop me?" Hermione asked, glaring at him from her bed.

"By any means necessary."

"What are you so afraid of?" she snapped, "What is it that you're so terrified of that you're flying off the handle like this? Merlin, have you always had a temper like this?"

"Yes!" He hissed at her, looking very much like he wanted to murder her.

"Well you better learn to get a hold of it because there is nothing you can say or do that is going to change what's going to happen."

"How far is he sending you back?" Snape demanded.

"Back to your first year at Hogwarts," Hermione informed him, "Where I will be given a De-Aging Potion so that I'll blend right in with the first year students."

"You have lost you mind," he accused, "What could you possibly hope to achieve? _IF_ you survive the attempt."

"It seems there are several 'at risk' students that I'll be expected to influence to keep them out of the clutches of Voldemort," Hermione retorted, noticing the way he flinched.

"He means to keep me from joining the Dark Lord and so keep the Prophecy from being passed on," Snape growled.

"Among other things."

"And just how do you propose to do that?" He demanded of her, his gaze travelling over her and his lip curling at the idea.

"By befriending you and the others on Dumbledore's list and making sure you don't all fall prey to a ravenous lunatic with a god-complex."

"You think you're going to be able to convince me to be your friend?" he scoffed.

"Of course, because I know all about you and so will be able to manipulate the circumstances to ensure that you will be my friend."

"Are you really so desperate for friendship?" he snapped at her.

"No, but you are," Hermione retorted.

"You are out of line Miss Granger!" he warned her, advancing menacingly.

"No, you are! I'm going to be able to re-write history and make sure that everything awful that's happened won't happen again. James and Lily won't put their faith in a traitor and end up dead. Sirius won't hunt Pettigrew down and wind up in Azkaban for crimes he didn't commit. Remus won't be left all alone to suffer through life with his affliction. You and several others won't end up Voldemort's lackeys and cause all of the issues we are currently facing. Dumbledore will have almost thirty years of a head-start on hunting down horcruxes and destroying them. They will be forewarned of the families and people that are targeted by Voldemort, ensuring that they can be protected. Everything will be better."

"And you're willing to risk your life to achieve that?" he demanded, an unpleasant expression twisting his features.

"Yes!" Hermione replied.

"And if they device doesn't work? If you wind up thirty years in the past with an addled mind, then what?"

"Then nothing," Hermione snapped, "Because it's not going to happen."

"Albus Dumbledore isn't infallible, Miss Granger," he warned her, seeming to be slowly getting a hold of his temper.

"No, but he's close enough. I trust him and I believe it's worth the risk."

"Just how do you plan to befriend the twelve year old version of me Miss Granger?" he asked, and Hermione could tell that was part of what worried him. Hermione smiled.

"I'll know to look past that nasty attitude and sharp tongue to see the grumpy little boy hiding behind that facade."

"In other words you're going to be your usual, persistent, annoying self," He replied dryly.

"Think it will work?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"No."

"What kind of attitude is that?" Hermione demanded.

"The kind designed to keep you from meddling with time and with my life."

"Because your life has been such a happy affair and you wouldn't change anything?" Hermione said sarcastically.

"What does this plan have to do with you seducing me?" he asked, suddenly switching topics even though he glared at her for the comment.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"I see no call in this assignment of yours that requires you change your virginal status," he said.

"You want me to risk death or addlement without carnal knowledge?" Hermione asked, grinning now.

He stared at her, one eyebrow quirked in irritation or perhaps confusion.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.

"Why did you try to seduce me Miss Granger?"

"I never tried to seduce you," Hermione told him, "That would've involved invading your personal space and touching you inappropriately while speaking in a husky voice."

"And you expect me to believe you don't have carnal knowledge," he clicked his tongue condescendingly.

"I don't," Hermione snapped, blushing, "I was pointing out that if I had tried to seduce you, I'd have done that sort of thing, rather than simply tormenting you by informing you it was required for the success of my mission."

"Which you did because...?" Snape said, clearly waiting for an explanation.

Hermione shrugged "It's easier to tolerate your rudeness and your abrasive personality if I throw you off kilter and unsettle you."

He looked thunderstruck.

"Did you finish that recipe?" Hermione asked nonchalantly, getting up and walking around him since he was still towering over her, looking menacing.

She smiled when she saw that he had and she recognised the cramped, spiky handwriting she'd been seeing in Harry's Potions textbook that he'd been using to beat her in class.

"Can I ask you something?" Hermione asked as she picked up the piece of paper, folding it and slipping it inside her bag.

"It's been my experience that whether I say yes or no, you'll ask regardless."

"Why did you once refer to yourself as the Half-Blood Prince?"

"Is there anything you don't know?" he demanded, looking entirely perplexed and shocked at her mentioning of that particular title.

"Of course there is, else I wouldn't be asking a question."

"It was a ridiculous title I fashioned for myself because as I've mentioned, I'm a half-blood due to the fact that my father was a muggle; and my mother's maiden name was Eileen Prince. Since I abhorred my father - wretched man that he was - I chose to identify myself via my magical heritage and blood-status."

"Who else knew about the title?"

"No one," he replied, "Which begs the question of how it is that you know about it?"

"It's written in your old potions book from the storage cupboard in the dungeons," Hermione told him, "The one filled with tampered potion recipes and an assortment of spells that I'm beginning to suspect you invented yourself."

"And you have possession of my property because...?"

"I don't have it," Hermione said, "Harry does. He and Ron found it when they enrolled into Potions late after learning you weren't teaching the course this year."

"That rotten little swine! I knew there was no possible way he suddenly became perfect at potions when he's been nothing but a bumbling fool in the past."

"Must you always be so abrasive?" Hermione asked him.

"Must you always be so insufferable?" he retorted.

"I get the feeling this mission is going to try my patience," Hermione informed him as she did a final sweep of her room for anything else she could think of that she might want to take with her that wasn't already at Hogwarts.

"I suspect you have an overly optimistic view of the life you are going to immerse yourself in," he told her, watching her as she moved around the room, picking things up and pondering their usefulness.

"Are you going to help me or are you going to continue to be difficult?" Hermione asked him, glancing over and holding his gaze.

"Why would I help you meddle with my life?" he asked coldly.

"So that I don't make it worse," Hermione replied, "I have an idea of how to fix things, but what if I make them ten times worse?"

"Then don't do it, foolish girl!" Snape told her, rolling his eyes.

"That's not an option," Hermione said, "So I'm going to ask you again. When I go back, do you think you'll be my friend?"

"I don't know," Snape replied, "What are you intending to change to make yourself less insufferable?"

"Wasn't it you who said that friends shouldn't expect each other to change who they are?"

"I get the feeling you're going to be even more insufferable as a friend than you are as a student."

"Because I ask too many questions?"

"No, because you might actually challenge me intellectually. It's bound to get on my nerves and will either make me hate you, or befriend you."

"Since I'll still retain the mental capability of a seventeen year old and you'll only be twelve, I think I'll have the upper hand," Hermione smirked at him.

"I wouldn't count on it," Snape told her.

"You were a know-it-all too, weren't you?" Hermione grinned.

"Perhaps. Though I'm sure I was less insufferable."

"How so?"

"I kept to myself and didn't have any friends to boost my ego to enormous proportions just because I was smarter than them. Instead I had a gang of idiots more than willing to take the mickey out of me and attack me whenever the chance arose."

"That'll change," Hermione said, deciding she had grabbed everything she needed from her room and ignoring the fact that Snape curled his lip nastily when she picked up the stuffed bunny she had as a little girl that she used to cuddle in bed every night.

"I still say this is a ridiculous plan and probably a suicide mission," he told her, following her as she walked out of her room and back down to the kitchen.

"You're entitled to your opinion," Hermione told him as she set about making another cup of tea, making him a second cup without bothering to ask him if he wanted another, "We still have more than an hour to kill before my parents get back."

"Is this you trying to seduce me again?" he asked and if Hermione didn't know better she'd almost think he was... joking with her.

"Does it look like I'm rubbing up against you?" She asked, grinning.

"I suspect your approach would be more subtle," he retorted, taking the tea and sitting at the kitchen table in her parent's house. Hermione opened her mouth to reply but before she could he added, "Else you would be dating Mr Weasley by now, though he is clearly too thick to have noticed your interest in him."

"And here I thought you might be giving me a compliment," Hermione grumbled, sitting down at the table across from him.

"I very rarely give out compliments Miss Granger. So few people deserve them and you've not earned one."

"Why do I get the feeling that behind that nastiness you actually have a sense of humour?" Hermione asked him, eyeing him over the rim of her tea-cup.

"I don't hide it. I simply prefer to find humour at the expense of others rather than low level wit."

"In other words you like being mean," Hermione laughed. She was shocked when the Professor shrugged, smirking sinisterly. "Doesn't that seem a little beneath you, given your history of being the butt of other people's jokes and pranks?"

"It's character-building to be picked on," he informed her.

"Yeah, because you've got so much character going for you."

He scowled at her.

"See?" Hermione continued when he looked annoyed, "You don't like it when people say things like that to you and yet you openly and viciously mock others for their flaws."

"You are too logical," he muttered, before taking a big gulp of his tea and looking away from her.

"Perhaps I am, but maybe if you didn't strike out at everyone else all the time, unprovoked most of the time, you would have a better chance of making friends. You only do it to pre-empt anyone striking out at you."

"Why are you bothering to tell me this when in a few short hours you're going to go back and meddle with time and with me, meaning I won't recall this conversation."

"In case it fails. And because I care."

"Now you're going to try and tell me you care about me being bitter and vicious?" He demanded, looking annoyed all over again.

"I do actually care. So you can stop looking like I've lied to you and suck it up. Besides, I figure this is good practice for learning to tolerate your personality."

"I bet you get frustrated and give up on trying to be my friend within the first year," he told her, smirking over the top of his cup at her before holding it out to her and showing her it was empty.

"Is this your way of asking for a refill?" Hermione asked drolly, "And you can't make a bet with me about it because I'll never get to collect my winnings."

"Winnings?" He scoffed, "Your winnings can be that you get to spend your final hours on this time-line enjoying the pleasure of my company."

Hermione snorted as she made the tea.

"Arrogance does not suit you, Professor. Stick to being nasty."

"I _was_ being nasty," he replied and Hermione saw a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes when she laughed.

"Do you want something to eat?" She asked, "I dragged you away from your dinner."

"You expect me to believe you can cook?" He asked, "You're forgetting I've seen you brew a potion. I don't trust you in a kitchen."

"I can cook," Hermione protested, "Better than you, I'd wager."

"Doubtful, Miss Granger," he retorted.

"Just because you can brew a potion doesn't make you a master chef," Hermione told him.

"No, but being a perpetual bachelor with no friends certainly does."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at him, feeling her amusement deflate a little at his comment.

"Does that mean I shouldn't go back in time and make friends with you? I wouldn't want to mess with your cooking skills."

"Very funny," he said dryly, shooting her a bored look.

"Do you want something or not? I can actually cook."

"I'm fine," he told her when Hermione brought him his cup of tea. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well I was too busy talking and saying goodbye to my friends to eat, so I'm having something."

"What are you having?" he asked and Hermione smirked, realizing he was hungry, he was just being polite.

"It depends what my parents have in the fridge and the pantry," Hermione shrugged, "What do you feel like eating?"

"I told you I'm fine."

"And then very pointedly asked me what I was going to cook. Meaning you're hungry, you're just hiding a polite streak I doubted you were capable of because you don't want to seem like you have needs."

"That perceptiveness is going to get you in trouble you know," he told her, clearly having given up on demanding that she speak to him more respectfully.

"With you?" Hermione asked, digging around in the fridge and unearthing some bacon, prosciutto, pepperoni, feta cheese and some shallots. In the pantry she found some canned tomatoes, onions, a jar of tomato and herb pasta sauce and some dry pasta.

"Yes, with me," Snape answered, watching her assemble all the ingredients on the bench before hunting for a saucepan to boil the pasta and a frying pan for the rest of the ingredients.

"Why? Because you're likely to try and lie to me and put on a facade a lot and I'm going to see through it?"

"Yes. It's getting on my nerves now and I had less control over my tongue as a teenager."

"I'm used to being insulted by you, I'm sure it will be like water off a duck's back."

"For you, but it will drive me nuts."

"You don't like it when you try to push me away and it doesn't work," Hermione accused him, sticking a metal teaspoon in her mouth before she set about chopping the onions.

"I have no tolerance for anything that doesn't work," he corrected, "And what are you doing with that ridiculous spoon in your mouth?"

"It keeps me from tearing up when I chop the onions," Hermione said around the spoon, grinning at him.

"Are you a witch or not?" he demanded, clearly appalled at the idea of resorting to using a muggle trick when she could simply use a suppression charm on the onion spores.

"Of course I am, but suppressing the spores means I don't get that onion smell on my hands, and I like having the onion smell on my hands."

"Insufferable _and _odd," Hermione heard him mutter.

"Don't tell me there aren't potion or cooking ingredients that you don't like spilling on yourself simply so you can enjoy them later."

"No wonder you never get full marks on your potions. You've been contaminating them with the juices and spores of other ingredients."

"Sometimes I prefer not getting full marks. It makes me try harder," Hermione told him, "Are you going to tell me anything else about yourself that it might be important for me to know?"

"Why would I do that? You're already going to have me at a disadvantage upon meeting me. If I tell you anything else the twelve year old version of me will have no chance at escaping your friendship."

"That's kind of the point," Hermione told him, slicing up bacon, prosciutto, shallots and pepperoni into small chunks, "The idea is that I go back and befriend you and keep you from making all the mistakes that landed you here."

"Any more information and the twelve year old me will be suspicious of you, then you'll bollocks everything up and make things even worse," He told her, "What are you going to do when I find out you're a time-travelling meddlesome swot and lose my temper with you about it?"

"Lie," Hermione said simply, "Or, alternatively, not let you find out."

"I see, a friendship built on lies. Doesn't that sound appealing?" he practically grumbled and Hermione turned to look at him, tossing the cooking ingredients in her frying pan.

"You don't even like me, what are you grumbling about?"

"You're going to trick me into it and it will all be a lie."

"Who said it would be a lie?" Hermione demanded.

"You did. You're only purpose for befriending me is to manipulate me and my life-path."

"Not my only purpose," Hermione argued with him, checking the pasta as it boiled, "I would also be befriending you to save you from years of torment at the hands of James Potter and Sirius Black, not to mention anyone else you manage to irritate with your too-smart-for-your-own-good mouth and that attitude."

"That is really no way to speak to your teacher, Miss Granger," he admonished, though he looked mildly amused behind that scowl.

"You're not my teacher, anymore. You're my friend now," Hermione told him with a smile.

"No I'm not."

"You are. Which is another reason you'd never find out I was manipulating you, because you're my friend."

"I don't have any friends Miss Granger. I have associates and I have enemies and that is it."

"Would any of them cook you dinner?" Hermione challenged as she combined all the ingredients in her frying pan to mix the sauce through before straining the pasta.

"No," he admitted, glaring.

"Then I'm your friend," Hermione said simply.

"You don't even like me," he argued scowling moodily now.

"Says who?"

"You did," he told her.

"I never said I didn't like you. I said I wasn't a fan of the way you belittle and degrade everyone, including all of my friends and me. I also said that I respected you anyway, because you're scary when you scowl like that," she pointed at his fierce expression, "But I never said I didn't like you. I actually find you mildly amusing and interesting to talk to."

Snape stayed silent after that, glaring moodily into his tea cup, making Hermione suspect it was empty again.

Reaching over, Hermione flicked the kettle on again, watching Snape out the corner of her eye. He clearly didn't want to be anywhere near her anymore, and didn't like the idea of her considering him to be amusing or interesting.

"You'll have to be careful," he said finally, when Hermione brought over a bowl of pasta and sat it in front of him along with some cutlery, prying the tea-cup from his grip so she could refill it.

"I'm always careful," Hermione told him.

"I was prone to slipping people Veritaserum so I could embarrass them and find out their secrets. It's more than likely that I'll do it to you."

"I'm more than prepared for your lack of trust," Hermione told him, "Besides, I don't have anything to hide."

"You'll have a lot of things to hide. All the secrets you know from this time."

"But you won't know to ask me about them."

Hermione put the fresh cup of tea in front of him before she joined him at the kitchen table, digging into her pasta hungrily.

"You wanted the potion recipe for Lupin, didn't you?" he asked suddenly changing the subject and making Hermione look up at him. He was taking his time eating the food she'd cooked him and Hermione found herself wondering if he didn't like it or if he was savouring it.

"Yes, I did," she confirmed, "His condition is hard on him and must be unbearable while he's at school. At least this way when he transforms he won't lose his mind. "

"If that falls into the wrong hands you're going to discredit the original inventor."

"I'm not an idiot, you know?" Hermione said, frowning impatiently, "I'm not just going to go shouting about it. I'm going to give it to Professor Dumbledore, who will be aware of my time-travelling status, and have him decide who should make the potion for Remus and give it to him. I'm not going to go about telling people I'm from the future there to save them all or something equally ridiculous. If I have my way, Professor Dumbledore will be the only one who evens knows I'm from this time."

"Why did you make this for me?" he asked, indicating to his food, changing the subject again.

"Because you were hungry," Hermione shrugged, "I was hungry too. It's not like it was hard."

"It's nice," he murmured a while later without looking at her and Hermione realised suddenly that he probably wasn't used to having anyone do anything nice for him, even if it was just cooking him dinner.

"I'm glad you like it," Hermione replied, "Even if I'm insufferable _and _odd."

When he smirked at her, Hermione felt a little flush of happiness inside her chest to know that she'd succeeded in making that perpetual scowl and sneer disappear.


	5. Chapter 5: The Hardest Goodbye

**Chapter 5: The Hardest Goodbye**

"Hello?" Hermione heard a familiar voice call out, and Snape jerked to his feet, his wand drawn in the blink of an eye. His reflexes were astounding and Hermione wondered if she was ever as quick as him or if it had taken years and years of constantly being on his guard for an attack

"Dad?" Hermione called back, "We're in the kitchen."

"Hermione?" Her mother's voice called, sounding hopeful.

"It's me Mum," she said, grinning and waving at Snape to sit back down and finish his food.

"My little girl's home!" Her mother cried happily, practically bounding in the room with much more spryness than any woman in her fifties has a right to still possess. "Oh, hello. You've got company."

Monica Granger smiled warmly at Snape even though Hermione could see the way her mother's gaze took in his scowl and his dark appearance before she glanced at Hermione with an expression of mild concern.

"This is Professor Snape," Hermione introduced him to her parents, "Professor, these are my parents, Monica and Wendell Granger."

He made no move to greet them, but he did scowl a little less so Hermione assumed it was the best they were going to get.

"Well it's nice to meet you, Professor Snape, I'm sure," Monica greeted him with a welcoming smile, "Now, what are you doing here sweetheart?"

"Not that we don't look forward to seeing you," Her father interrupted, "But it's a surprise to see you here tonight. Is everything alright love-bug?"

"Everything's fine Dad, I just needed to get some supplies from here that weren't safe for you to post to me." Hermione smiled, walking into her mother's open arms and hugging her. She hugged her father too, who kissed her cheek.

"Did you skip dinner Sweetheart?" Monica asked, eyeing the plates of food.

"Yes, I wanted to get here at a decent hour so we wouldn't wake you, but you were out. You're out of Pepperoni, Prosciutto and shallots now."

Wendell laughed.

"Did you add them to the shopping list?"

"No. I was too busy eating," Hermione smiled.

"Rascal," Monica told her, "So what's going on Sweetheart, why are you here being escorted by your teacher. You're not in some kind of trouble are you?"

"No, nothing like that," Hermione said, sitting back at the table with Snape. Her father sat down beside the scowling wizard while her mother made hot-chocolate on the stove. "Professor Snape is just escorting me because it's not entirely safe for students with non-magic parents to be travelling alone right now."

"That evil fellow you were telling us about is still on the loose then?" Wendell asked.

"He is. Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster, granted me permission to come home and collect some of my things for school and to see you since I won't be home for Easter…. He wanted me to have the best available person to protect me while I did so."

Snape glanced at her to hear her compliment him and quirked an eyebrow.

"Well it's good to know you're well looked after love-bug," her father said, "So, what is it you teach Mr Snape?"

"Potions," Snape replied, "Though this year I've been given the Defence Against the Dark Arts position."

"That's the one they've had so much trouble keep a consistent teacher for the job isn't it?" Monica asked from the stove.

"It is," Snape said and Hermione bit her lip when she noticed how uncomfortable he looked to be speaking politely.

"Well then I wish you luck Mr Snape. Hermione told us there's a rumour the position is cursed so that no one can hold the job for more than a year. At first I thought she was just being metaphorical, but it seems she meant it literally."

"There is an unfortunate history regarding the longevity of each person holding the job," Snape said evasively.

"And how long have you been a teacher dear?" Monica asked, before adding, "Hot chocolate?"

"Oh erm…"

"Trust me, you want some. Mum makes better hot chocolate than the elves," Hermione told him before he could refused, "Pour him a cup Mum."

"So how long was it you've been teaching?" Monica asked as she carried over the mugs of hot chocolate, setting one in front of Snape before putting one in front of Hermione and pressing a kiss to the top of Hermione's head and sitting beside her.

"This is my fifteenth year," Snape told her.

"Really?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Surely not," Wendell said, "You're far too young to have been teaching so long."

"I took the position as Potion Master when I was twenty-one," Snape informed them though he seemed to be having a hard time looking at either of Hermione's parents.

"My but that's a young age to begin teaching. You must enjoy your work to have done it for so long. I'm not sure I'd have the patience for all those teenagers. One well-behaved teenager was enough for us," Monica said and Snape smirked at Hermione, who blushed. "What do you think, sweet-heart? Is Professor Snape a good teacher? I feel like we've heard his name before."

Snape watched her now, clearly waiting for her response to such a question and Hermione fought not to roll her eyes.

"You have Mum, I wrote to you about him."

"Wait, Snape?" Wendell said suddenly snapping his fingers, "Aren't you the one who belittles my daughter for helping her friends in class?"

"Dad," Hermione warned but Snape was already scowling.

"I am."

"Doesn't seem right to me. If she's good enough at the class to be able to help others why do you punish her for it?" Wendell asked him, ignoring Hermione's protests.

"Her 'help' results in her doing the work for the other students," Snape replied coldly, "If I had wanted to assess several pieces of the same work performed by your daughter I'd have asked for several pieces. She interferes with the learning of others and enables them to pass rather that allowing them to learn on their own through failure. I punish her for it because it disables their ability to effectively learn when she loses patience with their lack of intelligence and performs the assigned tasks for them."

"Maybe if you didn't terrify Neville and antagonize Harry and Ron I wouldn't have to interfere with their learning," Hermione retorted, glaring at Snape.

"If they don't consistently fail, they will never work harder to pass. Which is why you currently have to deal with Mr Potter and Mr Weasley cheating off you and taking advantage of you rather than having them do the work themselves. It's not your job to teach them."

"No, it's your job and you're utterly ruthless about it. You know Neville is terrified of you, but still every lesson you glare down at him with that expression that makes most first years wet themselves and then you say something nasty implying that he's a complete idiot. And you wonder why he messes things up. If I didn't help him he'd have more accidents in class than Seamus does," Hermione argued with him.

"If you didn't help him he would be forced to make a more focused effort to overcome his fear and achieve the marks required of him," Snape retorted.

"If you weren't so set on inter-house rivalry and so predisposed to hating Gryffindor students, they'd be able to do better because they would be able to focus rather than cowering from you or wanting to hex your face off."

"Those are personal weaknesses they need to overcome, not be coddled for."

"How is that a good teaching strategy? Do you know what it does to a person to receive a failing grade on their homework?"

"I've never failed anything academically, so… No."

"You're supposed to teach them and assist them, not destroy their self-esteem!" Hermione argued heatedly, noticing that her parents were glancing between teacher and student with curious expressions.

"They need to grow more backbone and overcome their weaknesses. I often give you a below perfect grade and you don't dissolve into an explosive rage or a trembling puddle of idiot," He pointed out, a cruel smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

"I have an over-stimulated drive to succeed and accept the challenge of working harder for my grades. Not everyone is like me."

"Again with that inflated sense of self-worth Miss Granger," he clucked his tongue disapprovingly, "It doesn't do to boast about your intellect when you compare your skills academically to a collection of dunderheads."

"It doesn't do for a teacher and grown man to pit his will against several teenage students just because he doesn't like the house they were sorted into during first year," Hermione retorted.

"Sweetheart?" Monica interrupted before Snape could retort, clearly suspecting he was going to say something unkind based on his angry expression, "Do you argue with all of your teachers like this?"

"Of course not," Hermione said, still glaring at Snape, "I only argue with the one I'm friends with."

Snape's scowled deepened at the mention of her mission again and at the idea that she was going to interfere with his life.

"I see," Monica said and Hermione didn't miss the loaded glance her parents shared at the idea of Hermione being friends with Snape. "Well, sweetheart, he is still your teacher, so remember to be respectful. We don't want you getting into trouble."

"Snape won't get me into trouble," Hermione grinned. He glared at her.

"How long are you staying love-bug?" Her father asked, changing the subject, "It seems a little late for you to be out roaming. Doesn't Hogwarts have a curfew?"

"It does," Snape told them, "One you are currently breaking Miss Granger. I suggest you say your goodbyes to your parents so we can be on our way. I'm not writing you a note to explain why you're out of bed after hours."

"Professor Dumbledore will write me one," Hermione grinned at him widely,

"Just the same sweetheart," her mother said, "We love seeing you, but you don't want to get into trouble and it's getting late."

Hermione sighed, looking away from Snape and drinking in the sight of her parents. She wanted to take a photo with them before leaving, one she could keep forever, but she knew it would only cause suspicion from her parents and issues if anyone ever found a copy of the picture in her possession.

"I will wait in the hall for you Miss Granger. Don't be long," Snape said getting to his feet, he began to walk away before stopping and turning back to her parents, "It was nice to meet you…"

Hermione almost snorted at how uncomfortable he looked being so polite and when he turned away and glided out of the room her parents both looked at her questioningly.

"He's not very good at common courtesy," Hermione told them, grinning, "Usually he's much more obnoxious and nasty."

"Oh… does he have some kind of social impairment?" Moncia whispered to her.

"I think so," Hermione replied, "He's incredibly clever, and doesn't really have any friends. He strikes out viciously at people to keep them away because he was bullied as a child."

"Poor thing," Monica sighed, looking guilty for judging him.

"So what are you really here for love-bug?" her father asked her and Hermione looked over at him, raising her eyebrows. He always could tell when she was fibbing.

"I did have to collect a few things. The Order of the Pheonix, the one that fights against the evil wizards, has an assignment for me…. Professor Dumbledore wanted me to gather a few things from here and to have me see you, just in case something happens to me," Hermione admitted.

"You're going to be in danger?" Monica asked her.

"Yes. There's a very real chance that I might never see you again," Hermione told them both seriously, "It's dangerous and complicated, but if we succeed, Voldemort will be vanquished for good, hopefully."

"Well, be careful sweetheart. I have every faith that you'll succeed. You're so clever…. But promise me you'll be alright."

"I promise Mum," Hermione whispered, before biting her lip, "I'd better go… He'll storm back in here and grumble if I take too long."

"He's an abrasive and impatient fellow, isn't he?" Wendell asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Yes."

"Smart too, though. Maybe even smarter than you love-bug."

"You like him, don't you?" Hermione smiled at her father.

"He's not exactly the handsomest man in the world," Monica smiled at her, "But he's definitely interesting, and I've never met anyone else who can poke holes in your logic sweetheart."

"He's not my boyfriend," Hermione laughed, "He's my teacher. You two are looking at me like I'm seeing him or something."

"Honey, you don't talk to any of you other teachers the way you talk to him. He's prickly and a little awkward; and you're right about that scowl. It certainly would scare children into wetting their pants; but I've never seen you argue with anyone the way you were arguing with him. Maybe there's nothing there. Maybe we're imagining things, but he seems like the type of man you'd need in your life someday sweetheart," her mother told her, smiling softly.

Hermione felt herself begin to blush at the very idea.

"He's twice my age!" Hermione protested to them when both her parents got up and stood in front of her, smiling knowingly.

"He is," her father agreed, "but didn't you tell us that some magical folk can live well past one hundred?"

"Well, yes…." Hermione said.

"Age doesn't matter so much when you live that long, sweetheart. All we're saying is that if there was any predisposition between the two of you, we wouldn't disapprove if you wanted to pursue it."

"You're getting all this from one minor argument?" Hermione demanded, perplexed and blushing.

"One intellectual discussion, actually," Wendell said, "Sorry if we've embarrassed you love-bug. Just telling you how it is from our view-point."

"I'm going to go back to school now," Hermione told them, shaking her head at the very idea of anything romantic ever happening between her and Snape.

"We'll miss you honey. Be safe, and be careful."

"I will…. I'm going to miss both of you," Hermione murmured, feeling her heart squeeze in her chest as she gave them both a hug and a kiss.

"Don't ever forget that we love you sweetheart," Monica told her, lifting her chin and peering into her eyes for a long moment, "And no matter where you end up, know that we'll always love you and that we couldn't be prouder of you if we tried. You're our whole world, and nothing will ever change that."

"I love you both so much," Hermione whispered, a lump forming in her throat.

"You're our everything love-bug," her father said, tucking a stray curl behind her ears, "You go on now. Don't want to keep you teacher waiting. Be good. Be strong."

Hermione nodded, feeling her throat tighten even more and her hands begin to tremble as she fought back tears. Her parents walked with her through the house and to the front door where they found Snape waiting silently, looking bored. He glanced at them when they stopped in front of him.

"Take care of our girl," Wendell said, offering his hand to Snape to shake. Hermione caught the surprised expression on his face and the quick glance he shot at her before shaking her father's hand.

"Bye Mum," Hermione whispered as she opened the door and Snape stepped out into the night, "Bye Dad."

"Goodbye Sweetheart. We love you," Her mother told her, smiling softly as Hermione hesitated on the doorstep. Before she could stop herself, she threw herself into her parent's arms one last time, hugging them so tight that it made her ribs ache. They hugged her just as tightly and when they released her, Hermione stepped out into the darkness to where Snape was standing on the front path.

He watched her with an unfathomable expression for a moment even as Hermione felt a tear escape her eyes and trickle down her cheek. She jumped when he took her hand inside his, and she squeaked in surprise when she felt a tug behind her navel as he apparated them both away.


	6. Chapter 6: Parting Gifts

**Chapter 6: Parting Gifts**

"Where are we?" Hermione asked as she looked around at the quiet suburban street they had just landed on with a crack that echoed off the run-down houses.

"Spinner's End," Snape told her, still holding onto her hand even as he began to stride towards one of the many identical brown houses on the street, tugging her along behind him as he opened the gate and strode up the path. If she hadn't been feeling sorry for herself over the fact that she would never see her parents again, Hermione might've taken a more detailed note of her surroundings and of the fact that the heavily warded property sported an untended lawn and an overgrown garden that did not share the everyday weeds of the muggle gardens in the surroundings houses.

"I thought we were going back to Hogwarts?" Hermione said to her teacher even as he tugged her through the front door and into the house.

"I need to retrieve a few things before we do that," Snape told her, leading her into a spacious and nicely decorated living room.

"This is your house?" Hermione asked curiously even as he led her over to an armchair where he proceeded to push her into the seat.

"Yes. Do you need a handkerchief?" He asked briskly, clearly uncomfortable with the way she tried to rise from the chair to peruse his extensive book collection that lined every wall. He made it obvious that he didn't want her snooping when he pushed her back down into the seat as she tried to rise.

"Why would I….?" Hermione trailed off when he ran one long, bony finger down her cheek and held it up in front of her, showing her the wet tear drops.

"I didn't realise I was…." He cut her off before she could finish by handing her a handkerchief that was embroidered with the initials E.P. followed closely by a glass of whiskey.

"I don't drink," Hermione protested even as she watched him take a liberal mouthful from his own glass.

"You can't risk death and addlement without at least getting a little tipsy just once," He told her seriously and Hermione was amazed by how certain he seemed on the matter. "Now, sit here and drink that while I find what I'm looking for. Do NOT go snooping through my things. There's more whiskey in the decanter if you want it."

With that he swept out of the room and headed for the stairs Hermione could see in the hallway. She itched to get back to her feet and peruse his book collection, curious about the many titles she could see on display, but given his penchant for rage and his stealthiness, Hermione didn't trust that she could get back in her chair before he came back with whatever he was looking for. Instead she mopped at her face, drying away the tears she hadn't realised she'd been crying and took a gulp of the whiskey he'd given her.

It was smoky and made her throat burn, instantly warming her insides in a way that she couldn't decide if it was disturbing or comforting. Figuring that Snape had a point, Hermione took another gulp. After all, she might very well be dead before morning so it made sense that since she was unlikely to lose her virginity or tick off any of the other things on her bucket list, she at the very least had to get drunk just once. Even if she was getting drunk alone. In Snape's house.

When she finished her glass and reached for the decanter for another, Hermione spotted a precariously stacked pile of books by her chair and she smiled as she reached for the topmost book. It was a textbook on the creation of spells and Hermione realised that he truly was interested in creating spells. He'd earmarked several of the pages and had written on even more of them with titbits of information from other sources that related to the topic of each page.

She became so immersed in the text and in trying to decipher his tiny, spiky, cramped handwriting that she jumped in surprise when she felt him touch her ankle.

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded, staring at him in confusion when she found Severus Snape kneeling in front of her armchair and fiddling with the hem of her left pant leg, his cool fingers brushing against the inside of her ankle.

"Giving you something and making sure you won't be able to remove it," he informed her coolly, without looking up. Hermione leant forwards, trying to see what he was doing and she raised her eyebrows when she realised he'd wrapped some kind of material around her ankle and was using his wand to fasten it in such a way that she might never be able to remove it.

"What is that?" Hermione asked, not even really noticing the fact that in order to see her face was right next to his.

"It's made from unicorn hair, braided together and imbued with a potion I invented that circumvents the effects of Veritaserum," Snape informed her, his wand still aimed at her ankle.

"You invented a potion that makes Veritaserum ineffective?" Hermione asked, feeling a little awed by the very idea.

"I'm a spy for the Order against the Death Eaters. Do you really think I rely entirely on luck and the chance that the Dark Lord will simply trust me and not demand that I prove my loyalty and demand the truth in a way that he believes to be infallible?"

"So why are you giving one to me?" Hermione asked him even as he leant back a little, staring into her face.

"I warned you that the teenage version of me is likely to give you Veritaserum. You really don't want to see the results if the teenage me finds out why you're there," Snape told her, his voice soft and serious as he peered into her face with those unfathomable dark eyes.

"Well, thank you," Hermione murmured, wondering if it was simply the effects of having had two full glasses of straight liquor that had her staring into those black eyes and feeling a little like she was going to fall right into them.

"Don't ever take it off. It's enchanted to adjust to you size automatically, so when you're given the De-Aging potion and shrink back to being a scrawny twelve year old, it won't come off and won't cut off your circulation as you grow again…. This is for you as well," he said, holding up something else in the dimly lit room.

Hermione squinted at it, trying to see what it was.

"Is that a time-turner?" she asked him when she recognised the design.

"It was. I took the sand out and put in a potion instead. It's also imbued with several potions and enchantments for protection. This will guarantee that you survive the journey back in time. Don't take this off either, and don't lose it," he said.

Rather than offering it to her, he slipped the long chain over her head, his hands sweeping her curls free of the chain until it rested against her skin. Hermione squeaked in surprise when he proceeded to drop the amulet down the front of her shirt until it rested flat against her breastbone.

"Why are you giving me all these things?" Hermione asked curiously, still staring at him even as he got to his feet and took his book from her lap, closing it and putting it back on his side-table.

"So that you might actually have a chance to change the past rather than just going to your death tonight," he told her seriously, taking both her hands and lifting her until she stood in front of him.

Hermione stared up into his face, noticing suddenly that he stood very close to her. Absently she wondered if he was doing it to intimidate her or perhaps unsettle her or if he simply had no regard for personal space barriers. Just as she opened her mouth to thank him for the necklace and the anklet that would help her in her assignment, she felt his long, bony fingers pressing insistently beneath her chin, causing her to tip her head back slightly.

Before she could blink, he leaned in and planted a kiss right on her lips.

Hermione blinked in surprise when she felt his free hand cup her cheek and slide into her loose hair. His mouth was warm and firm on hers and entirely non-threatening. She didn't know if it was the alcohol or her new perspective on life given that she was leaving this time-line forever, but rather than over-thinking the fact that he was twice her age and not exactly the most attractive man in the world, Hermione simply reacted.

She kissed him back.

He tasted like the whiskey she'd been drinking and when his tongue swept against hers, Hermione was very aware of the fact that she kind of melted against him. Hermione hadn't kissed many men in her life, in fact Snape was only the third, but he was the best she'd ever kissed. His tongue tangled with hers in a way that made her toes curl inside her shoes and had parts of her body that she didn't even know she had roaring to life. Bringing her hand up, Hermione tangled it in his dark hair, marvelling at how silky it felt to touch.

When he pulled her closer until she was pressed against the length of him, Hermione sighed against his lips. His personal scent invaded her senses, a combination of potion ingredients, whiskey and something sharp like peppermint. Her heart began to race and Hermione wondered if the whiskey had tampered with her inhibitions.

She ought to be pulling away and staring at him in wide-eyed horror. Ought to be demanding to know what he thought he was doing, but she didn't. Instead, Hermione's eyes fluttered closed and she surrendered to the feelings he was eliciting from her. Her body tingled all over and her heart hammered in her chest. A slow, pleasant burn began beneath her abdomen and Hermione felt every touch like it sizzled in her blood.

His lips left hers reluctantly and Hermione sighed when his nose glided along her jaw before he buried his face against her neck. She ought to have blushed over the little involuntary whimper he elicited from her when he began to kiss her neck, nipping at her throat and suckling the flesh into his warm mouth. Goose-prickles raced across her skin as he exhaled slowly, his warm breath teasing her senses and making her heart race faster. Hermione's hand tightened in his hair, urging him on even as she let her head tip back, surrendering her neck to him attentions with a delighted sigh.

When he pulled away she blinked in confusion over what had just occurred. She opened her eyes again slowly, noting that they felt heavy and feeling the inexplicable urge to fight doing so, as though that might prolong the pleasurable feelings the kiss he'd just given her had inspired.

"Wow," Hermione murmured softly. She blushed when she heard the word slip out of her mouth, realising what she'd just said even as her mind scrambled to catch up with her body and began demanding answers over why he had just kissed her and why she had let him. She suddenly found herself understanding why Malfoy had looked so confused when she'd snogged him earlier.

"Thanks," she heard him chuckle darkly, clearly taking her word as a compliment.

"What are you looking at?" Hermione asked him when she noticed him watching her as though waiting for something. She was still blushing pink and wanting to know why he'd just done that but also still reeling from his kiss and wondering who on earth had taught Severus Snape to kiss.

"Just waiting for the regret to kick in," he told her, his voice that low, deep baritone she was so used to.

"Why did you just kiss me?" she asked him, frowning softly and bringing her hand up to touch her lips in an attempt to stop them tingling.

He stared at her for a long time before answering her and Hermione nibbled at her lip, wondering what had possessed him to have decided that snogging her was something he wanted to do.

"No one should risk death without at least the prelude to carnal knowledge," he told her and Hermione giggled when his mouth twisted into what she suspected was a self-deprecating, mocking smile. She realised suddenly that perhaps he didn't really know why he'd kissed her either and so had said the first thing that had popped into his head.

"I didn't mean to let things get so out of hand," he admitted gruffly, "I only meant to kiss you chastely to thank you for making me dinner…."

"I see…" Hermione murmured, she was slightly confused and the moment grew awkward before she said, "Now who was seducing whom?"

That made him laugh and Hermione was surprised by how rich Snape's laugh was when he wasn't laughing _at_ you. He blushed just the tiniest bit too before his gaze drifted from her face down to the front of her shirt. Hermione followed his gaze when she saw him frown and she realised that she must have still been clutching her glass of whiskey because she had somehow managed to spill it all over the school shirt she still wore.

"You've made quite the mess of yourself," Snape commented dryly, his gaze lifting back to meet hers when Hermione pulled the fabric out to glare at it in frustration, noticing as she did that she still clutched her now empty cup in her hand, seeming unable to let it go in spite of being soundly snogged and having spilt it all over herself.

"Indeed. I wasn't expecting your unique methods for expressing your gratitude," Hermione replied, grinning just a little bit and unable to keep from touching her lips again. They felt a little swollen.

"Perhaps it would be wise if you didn't return to Hogwarts covered in alcohol before undertaking the assignment you've been given…" Snape said before he turned away from her and disappeared up the steps again.

While he was gone Hermione pulled out her wand and tried waving it to remove the liquid soaked into the fabric of her shirt. She frowned in confusion when the stain and indeed the liquid refused to budge.

"Alcohol is resistant to magic Miss Granger," Snape said, his voice startling her, "That is why it makes such a useful base in most potions. You will not be able to remove the stain without laundering the garment."

Hermione stared at him in surprise when she noticed he was holding out a clean white undershirt of his towards her, clearly expecting her to take it so she could wear it to return to Hogwarts without smelling like an alehouse. She took it without voicing her suggestions that returning in his clothing might look even worse, and she stared at him awkwardly for a moment before she begun unbuttoning her own shirt, at which point he turned his back.

When she was done Hermione coughed awkwardly.

"I'm dressed now," She said softly, waiting for him to turn back around.

"I believe you have an assignment you need to be getting to," he said fixing her one of those piercing glances that so often unsettled students. Hermione felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth at the return of his familiar, stern, cold tone of voice, indicating that he'd clearly realised what they'd just done and was no doubt degrading himself silently and cursing himself for his lack of judgement. She could resist pointing that fact out in an attempt to throw him off kilter and unsettle him again, already missing the easier way he'd spoken to her after she'd shared banter with him all evening.

"More like your brain is kicking back into gear and you're panicking over the idea of just having snogged me, meaning you want to shove me back through time as fast as you can before anyone can find out that there's a little more to this relationship."

"You enjoy putting words in my mouth, don't you?" he asked.

"I kind of like it when you blush," Hermione smirked at him. She giggled when he glared at her.

"What was I thinking?" she heard him mutter, shaking his head as he collected some other belongings and then made a beeline for the door.

"I'm still wondering that myself. I mean, I had a couple of glasses of whiskey and might die before dawn."

"That's your excuse, eh?" he asked, staring at her drolly when she trailed after him.

"And I'm sticking to it. What's your excuse?" Hermione grinned, "After all, you made your opinion of me quite plain earlier. And yet here we are."

"Perhaps I was simply overcome by your kindness," he replied frostily, still glaring at her.

"Kindness?" Hermione asked, following him as he marched out of his house.

"No one else has ever cooked me anything," he said without looking back at her.

"Mrs Weasley cooks for you at Grimmauld Place…." Hermione said. Snape snorted.

"I never stay for meals in that dump."

"The elves cook for you at Hogwarts," Hermione tried again.

"Me and the rest of the school."

"Well, that was the most interesting way I've ever been thanked for something that seems entirely normal to me." Hermione said realising that arguing the point with him further was only going to result in him losing his temper.

"Anything else on your bucket list?" he asked her as he led her through the house, "So far you've ticked off snogging an enemy, getting a little tipsy and snogging a person who was at one time your potions instructor."

"Don't forget that I saw your house and told Ron what a git he was for not realising I was in love with him," Hermione pointed out cheerfully.

"A rather short bucket list you've got there Miss Granger. You've clearly not put enough thought into this."

"I'm not going to die, you know," she told him.

"Maybe not."

"You gave me something that's supposed to guarantee I make it. What's on your bucket list anyway, if you're going to sound so condescending about the lack of thought I've put into mine?" Hermione pointed out.

"You're too attentive for you own good," Snape accused her.

"I disagree. Paying attention has often meant the difference between life and death in the past. So are you going to answer my question?"

"Not with anything you want to hear," He replied, holding the door open and waiting for her to leave so he could lock it.

"How would you know what I want to hear?"

"Let it go, Hermione" Snape told her, clearly not liking being questioned.

"Fine, be that way and I'll draw my own conclusions" Hermione told him, irked that he wouldn't tell her.

"Good luck with that," he retorted before turning his attention to resetting the locks and wards protecting his house.

"Thank you," Hermione replied contrarily. "So…. What's going to happen if Dumbledore tries to send me back and it doesn't work?"

"Must you constantly pester me with questions?" he demanded and Hermione could tell that he didn't like even the mention of such an idea.

"Actually, yes. I must constantly pester you. You're supposed to answer any questions I might have."

"When it pertains to your education, yes."

"Well I was asking questions about the _education_ I received inside but you got your nose out of joint, so I changed the subject, and yet you still have you wand in a knot," Hermione said, growing exasperated.

"Stop it!" he commanded, storming down the path and onto the street where he threw out his wand arm, summoning the Knight Bus. He stepped back just in time for the bus to appear in front of him and Hermione rolled her eyes when he glared at her over his shoulder.

"Good evening and Welcome to the Knight Bus," Stan Shunpike began again, before stopping when he saw it was them.

"Two tickets to Hogsmeade," Snape hissed at him, handing over the money for both tickets and stalking onto the bus. Hermione giggled when she followed him and slipped into the seat beside him, once again forced to sit by the window so she couldn't be snatched out of the aisle.

When she was sitting beside him, Hermione turned in her seat so she could stare at him. On some level she knew she should be blushing and sitting in awkward silence after the act they'd just engaged in. She'd kissed him and he was twice her age, prickly and grumpy and not exactly the most attractive man on the planet to look at. He was nasty and cranky and always scowling, and yet, Hermione kind of liked him. As mean as he was.

"You're growing on me," Hermione whispered softly, smirking at him.

"I doubt that very much. You're simply overcome with the ridiculous endorphins supplied by your brain in order to rationalise to yourself what we've done. Now stop staring at me, stop asking questions, and stop being so insufferable. Just sit there in silence until we get to Hogwarts and I never have to see you again."

"Do I have a love bite on my neck?" Hermione asked him solemnly, trying not to giggle at his frosty attitude.

She jumped when he whipped around to face her, his hands wrapping around her jaw, cupping her cheeks, and his lips crashing down on hers again. His tongue delved into her mouth as though he couldn't get enough of her and Hermione melted into his kiss.

_Who taught him to kiss so well_? Hermione wondered idly while his fingers weaved into her hair as he kissed her as though he were a starving man and she was nourishment. After all, Hermione didn't imagine that many in the world would look past his appearance and his nasty personality to bother getting close enough to him emotionally, and she doubted many willingly looked past all of those things to pursue a physical relationship with him.

"Stop. It!" He ground out when he pulled back from her, glancing around and clearly grateful for the fact that the bus was darkened and deserted but for them on this floor.

"I didn't do anything," Hermione protested, confused over why he'd suddenly snogged her again.

"You're infuriating and entirely too insufferable for your own good!" he reiterated.

"So I've been told," Hermione said drily, "I get the feeling you sort of like it, though."

"I get the feeling the teenage version of me is going to find you entirely irritating and want to throttle you until I'm about sixteen," Snape retorted, not looking at her.

"And after you're sixteen?" Hermione asked curiously. He fixed her a look that made her insides quiver, silently answering her question.

It was in that moment that she realised that while the first kiss might've been intended to simply brush against her lips in a chaste peck of gratitude, he'd been thrown off kilter by her enthusiastic response, and by the way she'd been speaking to him all night. It was as thought she'd managed to rankled the un-ranklable and Hermione delighted in the knowledge that she'd found a way to unsettle the man who was so notorious for his rigid self-control.

"You'll probably become rather acquainted with the inside of broom cupboards," He told her, "And stop smirking like that."

"It's strange, seeing you like this," Hermione told him.

"Like what?"

"You're normally so self-possessed and rigidly in control at all times."

He glared at her, making Hermione shrink back just a little in the face of such fierceness.

"Hogsmeade!" Stan called from downstairs, and Hermione got to her feet, still clutching her purple beaded bag that Dumbledore had given her to keep her things in.

Snape didn't say anything else as they got back off the bus and began walking towards the gates to Hogwarts. Hermione walked along beside him, unable to entirely keep the grin off her face, especially when he kept shooting her irritated glances, little huffing sounds of annoyance escaping him.

"Is there anything else you need from your dormitory before going to see the Headmaster?" He asked her as they climbed the Grand staircase.

"Of course there is," Hermione replied, giggling a little when he sighed in frustration. It was clear that he meant to escort her and didn't want to have to walk all the way to Gryffindor Tower before delivering her to Professor Dumbledore's office. Something that became clear when he muttered unkind things under his breath for most of the climb.

"Hurry up. I'll wait here," He told her outside the Portrait hole leaning against the wall beside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Yes Severus," Hermione said in a sing-song voice, enjoying it entirely too much when he fixed her the look that sent most students scurrying in fear.

"Insufferable," She heard him mutter as the Fat Lady swung closed. Hermione giggled all the way across the deserted common room and up into her dormitory where she proceeded to dig several personal belongings out of her trunk, stuffing them all into the purple beaded bag Dumbledore had given her.

Crookshanks leapt up on her bed and butted his head against her hands as she was searching to make sure she had everything and Hermione smiled fondly at him.

"I'm going to miss you," Hermione told him, cupping his squashed face in her hands and pressing a kiss to his fluffy head while he purred. "Be good for Ginny if I fail. I'll try to find you back then."

She scooped him up and hugged him tightly, carrying him with her as she descended the stairs back to the Common room. It felt so wrong to leave him as she put the ginger ball of fluff down on the couch, but she knew that if things somehow went wrong, Ginny would take care of him. She gave him one last kiss on the top of his fluffy head before exiting the common room, pushing through the portrait hole where the Fat Lady had begun snoring once more.

Snape waited for her right where she'd left him, leaning against the wall and looking like his usual cranky, sneering self.

"Could you have taken any longer?" he demanded irritably, scowling when he turned that unfathomable black gaze on her.

"Yes. I could have," Hermione grinned at him before turning and beginning to walk back towards the fourth floor and Dumbledore's office. Idly she wondered if maybe they ought to wait until morning before sending her back, before remembering that by travelling through time they would be able to pick the exact time and date she would land in the past.

"You didn't think you ought to change?" Snape asked her in his hissing voice as he glided along like a bat beside her, his robes billowing behind him.

"Why would I do that?" Hermione asked him, glancing down and realising she still wore the blouse he'd given her rather than her own school shirt.

"Because the Headmaster is going to ask where you got that."

"But it's comfortable," Hermione protested.

"I'm aware of that. Which is why I wanted it back," Snape told her, rolling his eyes.

"Too bad. I'm taking it with me. Past you won't know it's yours," Hermione told him.

"No, but Dumbledore might when he sees you wearing it accompanied by that blush," Snape retorted, looking annoyed now.

"What blush? I'm not blushing. Blushing happens when one is embarrassed. And I'm not…." Hermione was cut off just as they reached the hallway where Dumbledore office entry was located when Snape suddenly pushed her into the wall, his hands delving into her hair again as he pressed his body the length of hers.

He snogged her earnestly, making Hermione tremble at the feel of his lips and tongue against hers. If she hadn't been so caught up in the feel of having him snog her again, Hermione might've sniggered over the way he'd clearly lost control or decided he rather liked snogging her, else he wouldn't continue to do so.

"That blush," he told her knowingly when he pulled away, his voice husky again.

"I'm not blushing," she protested breathlessly.

"Oh of course not, a little seductress like you would never blush," he rolled his eyes, his low voice a little gravelly now. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him when she felt herself begin to actually blush.

"You're the one who keep seducing me. So you can just shove the idea of calling me a seductress somewhere unpleasant," Hermione retorted huffily, her cheeks darkening when she heard Snape give a dark chuckle.

"It's for the best that you're about to hurl yourself back through time," he told her as he walked away towards the gargoyle and gave it the password.

"Because you want to get rid of me so that _you_ can stop blushing?" Hermione asked snidely, stepping onto the ascending staircase beside him.

"So you don't keep talking to me like that and wind up provoking me into kissing you in front of the class," he corrected her, his dark eyes narrowed on her as though it was entirely her fault he seemed to have misplaced his self-control.

"Oh, now it's my fault you just pushed me into the wall and snogged me?" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Of course it is. You were being contrary again," he told her.

"This better not be a habit I have to deal with. I won't have you blaming me for things that aren't my fault," Hermione warned him.

"If I find something that's not your fault, Miss Granger, I'll be sure not to blame you for it."

"Yeah right," Hermione scoffed.

"Make sure you don't mess things up worse, alright?" he said, suddenly serious even though he sounded like he doubted her ability not to create a total clusterfuck. Hermione could tell he was serious because he didn't curl his lip at her in annoyance.

"Like how?" Hermione demanded even as Snape knocked on the door to Dumbledore's office.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist when I say mean things," he told her, "Don't give up on trying to be my friend, no matter how much I push you away. Don't betray me. If you're really going to do this and change things to keep me from falling in with the Death Eaters you're going to have your work cut out for you…. Just don't let people like Lucius Malfoy intimidate you and don't let me ignore you or fall in with the wrong crowd."

"In others words do exactly what I intend to do, which is to befriend you and doggedly tolerate it even when you're awful to me until you come to your senses and realise I'm the best thing to ever happen to you?" Hermione grinned at him.

"It's like you want me to snog you again," he told her, looking wickedly amused beneath that layer of constant annoyance he wore as armour.

"Well…" Hermione shrugged, before she grinned when his eyes flashed at her in warning while they heard Dumbledore call for them both to enter his office.

Hermione smirked when his hand brushed against her lower back as he ushered her into the office in front of him.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Severus. You're trip to London went smoothly I trust?"

Snape nodded.

"And you've gathered everything you believe you need Miss Granger? Said your goodbyes?"

"I have Professor," Hermione replied formally, noticing that he was eyeing the oversized shirt she wore and clearly intrigued. When his eyes danced over to Snape suspiciously, Snape stared stoically back at the bespectacled headmaster, his expression and demeanour giving nothing away.

"Excellent!" he said, clapping his hands together, "Well then my dear, if you would like to come over here and sit down for a moment, I have several things I need to pass on to you for you to deliver to the past me."

Hermione moved over and sat down at the desk in front of the Headmaster, noticing that Snape dropped silently into the chair beside hers, earning them both another peculiar look from Dumbledore.

"Now, there are some things I will simply ask you to carry in that little bag I gave you, such as these," He handed her several glass phials with potions and memories contained in them as well as some pieces of parchment, "However, some things I simply don't trust not to fall into the wrong hands. I would like to personally store them inside your head, if you don't mind. I've left myself a note among those other things to extract them from you."

Hermione nodded her consent to being used as a storage vessel temporarily.

"I must warn you my dear, it does hurt somewhat to have me do this," Dumbledore warned her, waiting for her to nod again.

"I understand Professor," Hermione said bravely, "Go ahead."

When he pulled out his wand and held it to her temple, Hermione held her breath. It began as a little niggling sort of tickle at her temple, but rapidly grew in severity until without conscious instruction from her mind, Hermione's hand shot out and seized hold of Snape's on the desk, squeezing it even as she gritted her teeth and scrunched up her eyes at the pain of having things forced into her head.

She caught flashes of them behind her eyelids, many of them were memories of times in Dumbledore's life, and Hermione could understand why it was that he chose not to share them. Many of them were important Order of the Phoenix secrets and events that involved Voldemort and Harry and the Potters and Sirius and Snape.

For several excruciating minutes it went on, all of them flashing in her mind, many of them things she couldn't even begin to comprehend. When it was finally over, Hermione was grateful to already be sitting down. She swayed dizzily in her seat, still clutching Snape's hand tightly in her own even though she could feel him wriggling it. Her head pounded as she saw sparkles at the corners of her vision, making her suspect things would soon reach migraine stage.

"Are you alright, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked her, sounding concerned.

"A little dizzy, and I have a nasty headache," Hermione told him, blinking slowly, "But I'll be ok."

"We'll need to wait a few minutes I'm afraid. It might not be safe to send you off with a headache," Dumbledore smiled kindly, "And don't worry, when past-me extracts those, it won't hurt at all though it will leave you a little absent-minded for an hour or two. Now then, I assume you have shared with Severus the nature of your assignment?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione said, letting go of Snape to rub both hands against her temples.

"Excellent. Now, this is the list of those people I would like you to attempt to sway from the dark arts if you can do so in any way," Dumbledore handed her a folded piece of paper. "I trust that you're past experiences with Time-Travel have taught you that you should not meddle too much. Obviously in this instance things are different as it's unlikely you will ever run into yourself, however I must insist that you share only with me that you are from twenty-six years in the future, and the reason for your assignment."

"I understand Professor," Hermione said, beginning to nod before wincing when the movement made her head throb nastily.

"Let me see if I can do anything to improve that headache," Dumbledore said and Hermione sighed in relief when he waved his wand at her and the throbbing ache and the sparkles in her vision went away.

"Much better. Thank you Professor."

"You're welcome. I must ask you Miss Granger, are you entirely sure you want to do this? I am happy to wait until we lose this war before having you go back in time."

Hermione caught the way Snape blanched out the corner of her eyes at the very idea of her possibly deciding not to go through with her decision to return in time.

"I'm sure, Professor." Hermione assured Dumbledore, "I can do far more good for the people I love by going back than I can by staying here."

"Well then, my dear… I believe that is everything. I've provided a letter to myself to explain your assignment and arrival. I think it would be best for you to return to a time six months prior to the beginning of term, to allow us the time to find you guardians to look after you when you return to being twelve years old again, and to allow you to adjust to the strain travelling so far back in time may put on you. Not to mention the effects of reversing your physical age by six years….. Let me see now…"

Hermione watched curiously as he went around his desk and began flicking through an old calendar as though determining a date to send her back to.

"Ah yes, I think it would be best to have you arrive in my office at precisely 11:45 in the morning on Friday, March 12th in the year 1971. That will provide us the weekend to get things organised without interfering with the schedule too much and will guarantee that I will be in my office to meet you….. Are you ready, my dear?"

He came back around the desk clutching a time-turner and Hermione got to her feet. Snape followed suit.

"I'm ready," Hermione said, her insides beginning to twist up with nervousness. Dumbledore looped the fine gold chain of the time-turner over her head and Hermione flinched slightly when Professor Snape swiped a finger across her chest at the opening of her shirt, his fingers catching on the modified time-turner he'd given her earlier and fishing it out of the blouse he'd given her.

"Alright now, this may take a little while, there are an awful lot of turns that need to be made," Dumbledore said even as he began to turn the delicate dial on the time-turner. Snape did the same thing on the one he'd given her, giving it a turn at the exact moment Dumbledore did.

Hermione wanted to say something to them…. To thank them both for all they'd taught her. To bid them goodbye. But she was too nervous to do so lest they accidentally turn it a time too many or too few.

"You'll have a few moments before it registers and you begin to be sent back," Dumbledore told her as though reading her mind while he continued to turn the dial on the little watch.

Hermione held her breath when the final turn came.

"Any parting words?" Snape asked in that cold voice of his.

"Thank you both. For teaching me so much…. I guess I'll be seeing you," Hermione murmured, knowing it was no use asking them to pass on messages of love to Harry and the others because the minute she went back everything was going to change and they would not remember a word she'd said.

"We'll be seeing you Miss Granger," Dumbledore smiled.

"Good luck," Hermione heard Snape say, his gaze finding hers for a moment and one of those almost self-deprecating smiles crossing his face.

As the world began to spin rapidly Hermione heard him murmur, "Close your eyes," and then he was gone.


	7. Chapter 7: Phase One

**Chapter 7: Phase One**

Albus Dumbledore jumped in surprise when he felt a sudden gust of wind in his otherwise cosy office, accompanied by a strange buzzing sound that filled his head and made him think of impossibly engorged mosquitos buzzing right by his ears.

It was a sound he'd become accustomed to and he narrowed his eyes, pulling out his wand in preparation, expecting another Niffler to pop into existence on this timeline from his future self.

He had been sitting at his desk pondering whether or not he ought to make his way to the Great Hall for lunch or if he should eat in his office. Now it seemed he would have to deal with another of those blasted Nifflers bursting into existence and rampaging around his office. He grumbled under his breath in annoyance at his future self, wondering what on earth was going on in the future that he kept sending himself these sodding Nifflers.

He blinked in surprise when the fabric of the universe tore with a high pitch ripping sound akin to the sound of tearing denim, and a young woman appeared in his office. She didn't move for several long minutes and he didn't dare approach her, lest he upset some kind of post-time-travel practice. From what he could tell she was breathing heavily and when she began to sway where she stood, Albus hurried forwards, his wand still in his hand, just in case.

"Excuse me, Miss?" Albus asked politely as he moved rapidly around his desk.

"Professor?" she asked, lifting her head slowly.

The young woman blinked at him looking a little disoriented, though he noticed she had intelligent brown eyes. She clutched a purple beaded bag in her hand and had the string of it tied around her wrist as a precaution so she wouldn't lose it. Around her neck hung two long gold chains, one of which looked to have a small hour glass on it filled with sand and the other identical though it was filled with some kind of pale blue liquid.

"Professor Dumbledore?" she asked, her voice a little thick as though she was dizzy.

"Yes, that's me." He answered her, mildly alarmed that she knew his name when he'd never met her before but supposing based on her approximate age that it was reasonable he might not have met her. Especially when she'd just appeared on this timeline. "And who might you be, my dear?"

"My name is Hermione Granger, sir. I'm here from the year 1997… oh what did I do with those papers?"

Albus watched her, intrigued and concerned when she dug into the beaded bag she clutched, her entire arm disappearing inside a bag much too small to fit so much of her anatomy, before she pulled out a fistful of parchment scrolls.

"Here they are," She announced. "You asked me to give this to you. You told me you'd sent yourself things in the past, Nifflers and things…. Do you mind if I sit down? I'm terribly dizzy."

"Not at all, my dear," He said, hurrying to move forward and help her to one of the chairs in front of his desk when she stumbled slightly, realising that she clearly knew him and did not intend him harm of any kind. "Would you care for a glass of water or a spot of tea?"

He asked politely, taking the scroll of parchment she was proffering towards him.

"Water please…. Oh goodness, that was a long one." She murmured and Albus wondered silently if she travelled through time often.

Rather than asking her when she gave a little whimper and clutched her head as though it was spinning, Albus conjured her a glass of water and pressed it into her hand before rounding his desk and sitting down to read the letter to himself, wondering how on Earth his future self had just sent back a living person.

* * *

Hermione felt a little better after she drank the glass of water Dumbledore gave her. It had been a long and disorienting journey back through time, one that left her light-headed. She waited in silence for the spinning to stop while Dumbledore read the letter he'd sent to himself.

"You have travelled a long way my dear," he said finally, watching her over his half-moon spectacles. He looked exactly the same as he had almost thirty years into the future, Hermione noticed idly.

"I understand that you elected to return in time in order to persuade several individuals not to join the dark side, and to provide me with vital information to prevent many tragedies?"

"Yes Professor," Hermione confirmed, "You told me you would need to extract some information from me that you stored in my head…."

"Ah yes, would you like to do so now or wait until you are feeling a little better?"

"I feel alright Professor. I'd just forgotten that time-travel can be a little disorienting. And previously I had only used in for a time period of less than twenty four hours," Hermione assured him with a smile, "You can extract it now if you like, it might help with the headache."

"Very well, give me a moment to prepare my mind and we will begin."

Hermione waited patiently while Dumbledore got himself sorted out, before he moved around his desk and pressed his wand to his temple. He shuddered as those memories and images flickered through her mind before disappearing into his. When it was over he sat heavily beside her, looking weighed down with the information.

"Are you alright, sir?" Hermione asked kindly, feeling a little fuzzy now.

"Yes, Yes…. Just mildly disturbed by the amount of information."

"I know some of it's very sad, sir. I'm sorry. I've been sent back to help fix as much of it as I can," Hermione sympathised.

"As I understand it you intend to take a De-Aging potion and attend school again as a first year come September?"

"That's right Professor. Though in the meantime I need to organise somewhere for myself to live when I'm not attending school. Since the holidays will be vital to changing the perspective of the people I've been sent here to influence I was hoping to find a family willing to 'adopt' me….."

"I know just the couple," Dumbledore said, rubbing his temple absently "Miranda and Eugene Lyall are a young couple who have recently suffered the news of discovering they are incapable of having children. I'm sure that while they may go on to adopt other children whom they can raise as they're own, they would not object to the idea of 'adopting' you and giving you a place to live when you are away from Hogwarts."

"Are they nice people? My task here relies heavily on the concept of creating a safe, happy, loving environment for those I've been sent to befriend that will provide them an escape from their own unhappy home lives," Hermione told Professor Dumbledore seriously.

"They are some of the nicest people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Eugene works for the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Magical Transport office and Miranda is a healer at St. Mungo's. Both are in their late twenties, and Eugene parent's recently passed, leaving the pair a substantial fortune. I will owl them and ask them to join us here in order to meet you," Dumbledore said, nodding to himself, "I have cautioned myself in my letter to keep the knowledge of you returning from the future very quiet, so I think it would be for the best if we were to have you take that De-Aging Potion you brought with you, in order to return you to the age of twelve as quickly as possible to allow you the time to adjust and to get you settled with the Lyalls as soon as we can."

"Before we do, I'd like to take a trip to somewhere like Diagon Alley to ensure I have everything I might need. It will be easier for me to do that while I'm still of age, rather than as a twelve year old. I have a few outfits, but I'd like to stock up just in case," Hermione said quickly, wanting to make sure she'd have a chance to get herself some knickers to fit the twelve year old version of herself rather than the seventeen year old version. She also needed some other clothing, cloaks and things that she'd given to goodwill and other such places when she'd outgrown them during her own time.

"Of course. Do you have money for such things?" Dumbledore asked seriously, a small smile on his face and that familiar twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Yes, I brought plenty with me. If you'd like to arrange to have the Lyalls visit to meet me on Monday, that will give us sufficient time to gather everything we need and to fabricate a story about where I have come from and why I need adopting. My own parents in my time were muggles, and so I think it would be wise to tell them that I am muggle-born and that my parents recently died in a car crash. We can explain that with me being magical, it's not so easy to place me in an orphanage or a foster home with muggle parents because we would have to explain to those people why I'm always going off to Hogwarts," Hermione said, her mind already spinning with the amount of information she needed to memorise.

"That's a wise idea indeed," Dumbledore replied and Hermione caught the way his hand lifted briefly to his temple as though it pained him, making her suspect that he must be suffering a headache similar to the one she'd suffered after he'd extracted those memories into himself.

"I also think I ought to take the De-Aging Potion this evening when I return from London to allow us a few days to have me adjust before meeting this couple you have in mind," Hermione said.

"An excellent idea." Dumbledore smiled. "Would you like me to accompany you to Diagon Alley Miss Granger?"

"You need not trouble yourself, sir." Hermione said "You have quite the headache after absorbing those memories and information from your future self, and I imagine you have better things to do than accompany me on a shopping trip to purchase some knickers and things."

He chuckled at her blunt honesty and nodded.

"Very well. If you require anything, send word to me immediately. I think that until you take the De-Aging potion it's very important that you do your best to avoid being seen any more than necessary and that you don't meddle too much with the way of things just yet," Dumbledore cautioned seriously.

"I agree completely. I'm sure I can escape the castle unseen. Oh, and before I forget" Hermione said, suddenly recalling the potion recipe she'd had Snape concoct for her before being sent back, "I understand that come September a dear friend of mine will be attending Hogwarts, one who suffers werewolfry."

"You are acquainted with Mr Lupin?" Dumbledore asked, surprised.

"Yes, in the future he was a teacher of mine, and a friend. Before returning, I had a Potions Master provide me a copy of a potion that has yet to be invented here, that allows for individuals suffering the werewolf curse to retain their minds during the transformation. It does nothing for the pain, and I've been told it tastes positively disgusting, but it does allow the person to curl up as a harmless wolf to wait out the full moon, rather than losing their minds and their humanity to the curse. I thought that if there was some way the school could provide it to Remus it would make his time here easier on everyone, especially on him."

"How will that effect the timeline of events?" Dumbledore asked, looking curious as he reached for the scrap of paper with the recipe written on it in Snape's cramped, spiky handwriting.

"I've been considering that. It is likely that Remus will befriend James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew during his time at Hogwarts, all of whom will eventually learn of his curse. In my time the three boys managed to become unregistered Animagi during their fifth year and spent the remainder of their schooling sneaking around on the full moon, breaking Remus loose of the Shrieking Shack and running around the grounds and Hogsmeade every month. I think that as long as Remus still has to spend the evenings of the full moon in the Shrieking Shack, what with still having to suffer the painful transformation, they will still become Animagi to assist him. The only other real change it might have is to allow Remus to feel a little less like a monster."

Dumbledore pondered it for a moment, reading over the recipe carefully.

"Very well. We will brew this potion for Remus every month. I understand from this parchment that it must be consumed in the lead up to the full moon every evening?"

"That's right," Hermione nodded "Obviously it will have to be kept a secret, otherwise the information might get out and the potion won't be properly accredited to the inventor. But I think that since it won't harm anyone and will only be being given to Remus, it will be easy enough to keep a secret. Especially if you tell him that he mustn't mention it to anyone."

"You truly are a very bright witch, Miss Granger." Dumbledore said then, smiling widely now with delight at the prospect of allowing Remus to take the potion and thereby improving his life monumentally.

"Thank you sir," Hermione blushed, "I'd best get off to Diagon Alley and get my supplies. Is there somewhere here that I can stay until I meet the Lyalls on Monday?"

"I think the Hospital Wing might be the easiest choice, Miss Granger. That way we can keep your presence a secret a little longer, and if there are any complications with the potion, or any latent issues that arise after such a long journey through time, our matron, Madame Pomfrey will be able to tend to you," He suggested wisely.

Hermione nodded in agreement, getting to her feet and ignoring the niggling feeling of light-headedness that plagued her for a moment at the sudden change in altitude. She made her way hurriedly out of the castle being sure to keep from being seen whenever she could and apparating away the minute she was outside the gates of the school. She landed with a crack in one of the upstairs rooms at The Leaky Cauldron before hurrying down into the pub and into Diagon Alley.

Her first stop was to collect all the Hogwarts first year textbooks again, followed by a stop at the clothing store where she purchased several different outfits, enough knickers to last her a month without doing laundry and all the other knickknacks she could think of. She chose to ignore the way the sales assistant in the clothing store eyed the oversized blouse she'd taken from Snape with distaste, preferring to revel in the feel of the fabric against her skin.

As she shopped, Hermione did what she could to avoid having to think too hard about the fact that it had worked. She had left everything behind to come here, and Hermione was nervous about how it would all go for her. What if she couldn't sway the lives of those she'd been sent here to save? What if she couldn't get Snape to be her friend in this time? What if the people Dumbledore wanted her to meet weren't what she needed in a family outside of Hogwarts in order to effectively provide a happier environment than what the people she hoped to befriend would require.

She tried not to think about the fact that she was already missing Harry, Ron and Ginny. That she missed walking the alley with them by her side. That she missed her parents and the security they'd provided her. It didn't help very much, but she tried not to just the same.

She was surprised when she didn't see anyone she knew, and yet entirely unsurprised at the same time. She had hoped she might run into a young Remus or James, a young Lily. Maybe even a young Snape. But she didn't. She didn't recognise a single face in the crowds of Diagon Alley and when Hermione left, returning to Hogwarts, she felt even sadder to know that she was, for the very first time in her life, utterly alone.

"Your excursion went well, I trust?" Dumbledore asked her when Hermione re-joined him in his office later that afternoon.

"It was uneventful, Professor," Hermione admitted, the toll of traveling so far back in time had begun to take their toll on her and she felt as though she needed a long sleep.

"You seem troubled, Miss Granger," he commented when she didn't elaborate.

"Just tired, sir. Tired and saddened to realise just how much I've given up to return here to complete this task. I find myself despairing over the loss of any kind of friendship or support system that I previously knew," Hermione admitted, slumping a little in the chair in front of his desk.

"You are not without support, Miss Granger. Should you ever require anything I am at your disposal. You need only come to me and I will do whatever is in my power to assist you, my dear. You have made a great sacrifice to the Greater Good of the wizarding world today, and for that I will always be eternally grateful. Others may not know to express their gratitude to you for your act, Miss Granger, but you must seek it out in other ways. In the survival of a friend who might otherwise have perished, in the happiness of a person destined for a life of bitterness without your intervention. These are the things you must accept as the small victories that contribute to the overall satisfaction of your successful mission here."

Hermione smiled sadly as the headmaster's words, but in that moment she was too wrung out to really muster any enthusiasm for her mission. Mostly she wanted to go to bed and maybe wake up tomorrow to it all being a crazy dream.

"Perhaps you ought to take your potion and then we can get you a bed. You look exhausted, my dear." Dumbledore suggested when she didn't say anything and continued to look wistful.

Hermione nodded her agreement before she began digging about in the beaded bag she carried until she located the De-Aging potion she'd been given by Dumbledore from the future she'd left behind. She stood up and moved to the middle of the room in order to take the potion, just in case there were any ill effects. With a nod at the headmaster, Hermione unstoppered the phial and swallowed down the contents of the potion, gagging at the bad taste of it, and clutching her throat as the potion began its work immediately.

The transition back to being a twelve year old was painful, like growing pains in reverse, and Hermione could feel herself shrinking. Her arms, legs and torso shortened. Her curves melted away, she height lowered until she was suddenly four foot six again and had to look up to look the Headmaster in the eyes, She felt very strange in her body now, as though it no longer fit when she was used to having so much more room. The bra wrapped around her torso where her breasts used to be hung in a way that was irritating and uncomfortable.

The shirt she wore that Snape had given her was now like a dress on her and almost reached her knees. Her slacks had slipped down her legs to puddle at her feet, no longer clinging to her frame now that she was a scrawny twelve year old once more.

"How do you feel?" Dumbledore asked her, smiling at her as though he thought her rather adorable returned to such a younger age and smaller stature.

"Cramped, like there's not enough room in my body for my soul anymore," Hermione admitted.

"It will pass," he assured her, "That is a common complaint of people who use De-Aging Potions. It will probably take a day or two for you to adjust, but you'll get used to it, I assure you."

"I hope so," Hermione said, wriggling a little, "I suppose I should try to get some sleep."

"Indeed. If you would like to change into some clothing that better fits you, I will escort you to the Hospital Wing. We'll tell Poppy you're the daughter of some family friends and have been placed in my care until your guardians can be notified after the death of your parents. If you go on through that door there, you'll have some privacy to change."

He pointed to a door along the wall to her left and Hermione nodded, going over to it and stepping inside, noting that it was a luxurious bathroom. Once there she quickly stripped out of the clothes that were too big for her, folding them all and putting them back in her beaded bag. She pulled out some fresh-bought pyjamas and a sports-style bra that better fitted her twelve year old body, donning them quickly before she went to a mirror on the wall and studying her reflection.

It was mildly unnerving to see herself. The height she had gained was gone, and she had to stand on her toes to see more of her body. The curves she had developed were long gone, leaving a straight up and done torso with protruding ribs in their place. Her chest was flat too, but for the tiniest lumps that she's have more cleavage from mosquito bites. The only mercy was that her curls were still tamed, though she could just tell her hair was going to be more prone to frizzing than she'd become accustomed to. She was grateful that she at least got to keep her mental age, allowing her to recall the spells and tricks she'd learned for taming the beast that was her hair. Her teeth too stayed at their altered state, though Hermione couldn't help but chuckle when she counted them and realise her twelve-year old molars had shrunk back into her jaw once more, as had the two wisdom teeth she'd had come through.

All in all, Hermione knew she would need to take some time to get used to being this size once more, and to seeing herself looking this young again. She supposed though, that this would at least make it easier to befriend the child Snape whom she expected to meet come September. As she looked at herself one last time before re-joining Dumbledore and allowing him to escort her to the Hospital wing, Hermione found herself hoping that it was all going to be worth it.


	8. Chapter 8: Finding a Foothold

**Chapter 8: Finding a Foothold**

Monday morning dawned cloudy and rain beat against the windows of the Hospital Wing, rousing Hermione from the restless, fitful dreams she'd been suffering since her journey back through time. Many of them were the result of an over active imagination and far too much time to sit and worry about all of the things that might go wrong. Madam Pomfrey had been fussing over her for days, much to Hermione's exasperation, believing the nightmares were the result of post-traumatic stress from the car crash she believed Hermione had survived. She'd been providing Hermione with Calming Draughts, and bombarding her with as many distractions as she could find, going so far as to invite some of the first years from the current school year in to keep Hermione company while the medi-witch was busy.

Hermione had made fast friends with a quiet, bespectacled boy named Nicholas Hornsby who had a tendency to stutter when he got flustered. Hermione rather liked the way he'd been thoughtful enough to bring her a book when he'd been asked to visit her and keep her company. He was often shy when she'd tried to draw him into conversation, quizzing him with information about Hogwarts and how he liked his classes and who his friends were. He'd opened up a little when she'd managed to land on the topic of magical creatures, at which point he had grown animated and downright chatty, telling her all about the habits and habitats of Giant Humdingers.

By the time Madam Pomfrey had shooed him out of the Hospital Wing to get himself some food in the Great Hall, Hermione had made a friend for life. He'd even promised to write to her once she'd left the school with the family coming to take her away. She smiled at the knowledge, knowing that having someone to write to would make for a less depressing summer until the time her mission could begin. He'd not once mentioned that she seemed odd when she scratched self-consciously at her skin, still feeling uncomfortable in it.

Hermione was still finishing braiding her hair, having donned a smart outfit that she hoped would win over the couple coming to meet her when Dumbledore came into the Hospital Wing. She was very nervous about the idea of going off to live with a pair of strangers, and she didn't quite know how to act. Knowing they were only ten or so years older than her psychologically, but looked much old physically made her feel unsure of how she should behave. She didn't want to come across as being an immature little charity case, but she also didn't want them to think her an abnormally mature child either. Finding a balance between how she was accustomed to behaving and how she ought to behave as a twelve year old was helped along thanks to her newfound friendship with Nicholas, but didn't entirely alleviate her nerves.

"Hermione, I'd like you to meet with Miranda and Eugene now, if you're ready?" Dumbledore said by way of greeting. He'd been checking in on her regularly and so Hermione smiled, nodding that she was before smoothing her jumper one last time.

"I'm ready, Professor," She answered formally, getting to her feet and moving towards him when he beckoned her.

"They're waiting for us in my office. I thought it might be best to have you meet them in a more private setting that a hospital ward." Dumbledore said, "Are you quiet alright? You look a little pale."

"Just nervous, sir," Hermione answered, smiling tightly, "I do hope they're what I'm looking for and that they'll be accommodating of my mission. Obviously I can't share it with them, but I do need them to be able to accept all I must do for this mission without imposing too many rules and imagined stipulations upon the idea of me being their adopted daughter."

"I have informed them that you're a very mature girl and that you're very special to me, so I'm things will be fine. They're both very nice people, too. Everything should be fine," Dumbledore assured her as they rode the ascending stairs up to his office where the family Hermione would be meeting were currently waiting.

"If you want to wait here just a moment, I'll go in and let them know you're here," Dumbledore told her, patting her shoulder reassuringly before he went into the office, leaving the door open for her and allowing her to glimpse the couple within the room.

They were not what Hermione had been expecting and she found a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth at the sight of them. They hadn't noticed her yet and Hermione took the opportunity to observe them without their knowledge.

Miranda was waifish, her skin pale and creamy, her hair long and dark, hanging down her back in long loose wings that shone in the morning sun coming in through the window. Her face was heart-shaped and care-worn in spite of her young age, with blue eyes and a happy smile that came easily to her face as Dumbledore spoke to them. She was dressed in fine lilac robes, her dress full length and corseted beneath her ice blue cloak.

Beside her stood a brown haired wizard with laughing green eyes and laugh lines on his face. His jaw was dusted with a layer of dark stubble. He was strongly built, his robes not concealing the fact that beneath he had the musculature of an Olympic diver. He wore brilliant bottle green robes that matched his eyes, and he held his wife's hand to calm her when she grew excited over Dumbledore announcement that Hermione would join them momentarily.

At a glance they looked like a happy couple, excited by the prospect of offering a home for a little orphaned girl. Hermione wondered if it would last, even as she squared her shoulders and stepped into the room to meet them.

"Ah, here she is. Hermione, this is Miranda and Eugene Lyall." Dumbledore introduced her when he spotted Hermione joining them. Both people turned to smile at her delightedly, and Hermione found herself automatically smiling back.

"Hello," Hermione offered when they continued smiling, "It's nice to meet you."

"Hello Hermione," Mirands greeted, coming forward and shaking her hand, "How are you?"

"I'm well thank you," Hermione replied, "Though a little nervous. How are you?"

"I like that honesty," Eugene chuckled as he came forward to shake her hand as well.

"I like your robes," Hermione replied, smiling. "There's a lovely colour."

"Oh. Thanks," Eugene smiled, blushing a little at her forwardness and making Hermione chuckle just a little bit.

"Now then," Dumbledore said when they both kept peering at Hermione hopefully, "As you know, Hermione is in need of parents to look after her. She'll be twelve in September, at which time she is due to begin her studies here at Hogwarts."

"Well we'd be happy to have you, Hermione," Miranda said and Hermione could see that the woman genuinely meant it. She looked so excited at the prospect of adopting Hermione that she kept quivering. Eugene had to put a calming hand on her shoulder as though her feared his wife might bombard Hermione with hugs and scare her off.

"We've got plenty of room in our house, and when you make friends at school we'd love to have them come to visit with us too. We adore children, and though we've not been lucky enough to be blessed with any of our own, we'd be delighted to have you join our family, Hermione," Eugene told her, looking almost as excited.

"I think I'd like that," Hermione smiled, unable to keep herself from it when they were both genuinely so kind and so excited to meet her.

"Really?" Miranda asked, even more excited now.

"Yes," Hermione answered simply with a solemn nod of her head before she grinned and said, "Can I have a cat?"

"Of course you can, sweetheart," Miranda beamed and Eugene lost the ability to keep his wife from hugging Hermione any longer as she came forward and wrapped Hermione into a surprisingly soft and motherly type of hug in spite of her waifish figure.

"Excellent," Dumbledore clapped his hands happily, his eyes twinkling, "It's settled then. Hermione I will notify all the concerned parties that you are now a member of the Lyall family and that Miranda and Eugene are your guardians. Here is the key to your bank vault, and we will see you in September. Don't hesitate to write to me."

"My vault key?" Hermione asked, confused now.

"Yes, here it is," Dumbledore told her, "Don't lose it. There are sufficient funds there to buy you anything you need."

"Oh, we can take care of all that." Eugene interrupted.

"There's no need, Miss Granger already has many of the things she requires for the upcoming year at school. A family to love and care for her and a place to live will be more than enough," Dumbledore told them, smiling.

"But…" Miranda began.

"I do have everything I need for now," Hermione interrupted, smiling at them, "But I'm sure we can think of something I've forgotten…. I'm hungry."

"Then let's go and get some brunch," Eugene suggested, "Miranda and I both have the day off, so we should make the most of it. Even if it is raining."

"I like the rain," Hermione told them, enjoying their company already as Dumbledore walked with them to the gates of the school.

They bombarded her with questions after that about what else she liked. And Hermione told them the truth. She told them that she liked rainy days because they were good for snuggling up and reading. She told them she liked her tea with milk and two sugars. She told them how she like French and Italian but not Vietnamese food. That her favorite flavour of ice-cream was butter pecan and that she adored apple pie. She told them that she liked boys with red hair and boys with black hair but not boys with blonde hair. She told them her favourite book was _Hogwarts: A History_ and that she'd read it forty-seven times.

The only time she grew quiet was when they accidentally mentioned her parents, which made Hermione sad for her lost parents and made her yearn for the time when she'd had best friends and a loving family. When she'd been in love with a boy who didn't know to love her back. She tried to do what Dumbledore had suggested. To focus on good things that had come from her returning to this time where she knew no one and had a job to do to save the world.

She treid to think about the fact that little Nicholas Hornsby might've never met someone with whom he could discuss his love for magical creatures without having them think him boring or stupid. She tried to think about how Miranda and Eugene Lyall would still be childless without her.

Over the months that followed as she traded letters with Nicholas and Dumbledore and as she grew accustomed to living with Miranda and Eugene, Hermione did her best not to allow her sadness for all she had sacrificed get to her. She wasn't always successful, but for the most part she found that she was able to go on. She found that she like to cook for Miranda and Eugene, to have dinner prepared for them when they both arrived home from work. It had been easy to convince them that she was old enough not to require a babysitter, and they always complimented her on the meals she made for them. She liked too that Miranda often sang to herself and that Eugene liked to whistle.

She liked that every letter she traded with Nicholas taught her more about some new magical creature he was fascinated by. She liked that she'd found some friends. She mourned the loss of her old ones, and could often be found dressed in one of her many Weasley jumpers that Mrs Weasley had knitted for her. She also often retreated into the odd comfort she found in wearing the shirt Snape had given her the night she's come back in time. More than once she found herself day dreaming about the way he'd kissed her.

The instability of her moods as a result of electing to go through puberty again often made Hermione feel like she was all over the place and that she had no control over herself, but other times she simply revelled in the feel of doing so once more with the knowledge that no matter what, she could handle it.

The months passed quickly for Hermione, in spite of how anxious she was for the arrival of September first and her looming first meeting with Severus Snape, Lily Evans, and the Marauders. She'd been growing more and more nervous about it, though she took comfort in the knowledge that even if everything went wrong and they all despised her for some as yet unknown reason, she would have a friend in Nicholas at the very least.

She dreamed often of the life she had known and every time she did she resolved to do everything in her power to ensure that the happiness she'd so hoped to provide them via her actions here would be a reality.


	9. Chapter 9: Platform 9 & Three Quarters

**A/N: I'm sorry for making you wait so long. I hope you enjoy this update. Don't forget to pop a review in the box at the bottom with your thoughts, hopes, and projections for the story! Much love! xx-Kitten.**

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**Of Ticking Clocks &amp; Beating Hearts**

_By Kittenshift17_

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**Chapter 9: Platform 9 ¾**

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The morning of September first dawned drearily, rain clouds hung heavily over the world and Hermione didn't at all look forward to the train ride, knowing the weather would make the other students restless.

"Hermione, sweetheart?" Miranda called down the hall as the entrance hall clock began to chime out the hour, telling Hermione it was ten sharp.

"What is it?" Hermione called back, her eyes dancing wildly around her bedroom as she tried to make sure she had located and packed everything she might need for the upcoming year.

"Are you ready to go, love?" Eugene asked, popping his head inside the door as he went past.

"I can't find my other shoe," Hermione admitted with dismay, having located the left one but not seeing the right one anywhere in the mildly cluttered bedroom.

Eugene smiled at her, clearly sensing how nervous she was about going to Hogwarts. He pulled out his wand and summoned the shoe with ease. Hermione laughed when it came whizzing out from underneath the cat bed Miranda and Eugene had bought for her when they'd let her have a new pet.

Hermione had tried desperately to find Crookshanks, but hadn't been successful at finding the ginger-haired half-kneazle. Instead Hermione had settled for a scraggly little tortoise-shell kitten that she'd found all alone in the pet store in Diagon Alley. Immediately when Hermione had spotted her, Hermione had known the poor little kitten was in for a rough life without someone's intervention. Her colouring was rather unpleasant, if Hermione was honest, though her fur was long and incredibly fluffy. Hermione had named her Cleopatra and she was already in her carry cage waiting to be transported to Hogwarts with Hermione.

"Thank you," Hermione said solemnly, looking up to Eugene with a genuine smile.

"Panicking yet?" he asked, grinning knowingly.

"Just a little bit. The weather will make everyone on the train restless and it's going to be a terribly long day," Hermione sighed, "I hope I make some friends."

"I'm sure you'll be fine love," Miranda assured her, coming to the door to help Hermione with her things. Miranda and Eugene lived on a small acreage outside of Portree, so they would be driving to King's Cross station.

"I know. At least I'll have Nicholas to talk to, if no one else," Hermione sighed, "Will you still love me even if I'm sorted into a different house to either of you?"

"No matter what," Eugene assured her with a nod, "You know I was in Slytherin and Miranda was in Hufflepuff, but all of the Hogwarts houses have their own merit. With that intellect of yours you'd fit very well into Ravenclaw."

"I think I belong in Slytherin," Hermione replied, noticing idly that the couple shared a glance at the idea, knowing Hermione was muggle-born and so would have trouble making friends in the blood-prejudiced house.

"We'll see how you go sweetheart," Miranda smiled, "Let's get going so you don't miss the train. Do you have everything? Have you got enough money?"

"I've got everything," Hermione assured them both with a smile

With that they packed Hermione's trunk into the car and Hermione climbed into the back seat with Cleopatra's cage balanced on the seat beside her.

"Are you excited, Hermione?" Miranda asked her, turning in her seat as Eugene drove. Hermione smiled at the woman who'd adopted her.

"Yes," Hermione admitted, "And a bit nervous. I'm going to miss being at home with the two of you."

Miranda smiled widely at her statement and Hermione felt pleased to know she'd made them both happy by admitting that she would indeed miss their company. In the six months since she had arrived on this time line and first met Miranda and Eugene, the couple had grown on her quickly and she was very fond of them. They indulged her as people who can't have their own biological children tended to do, and they didn't look at her strangely when she spoke in mannerisms or acted in ways that exceeded her supposedly young years. Hermione appreciated that most of all, though she was worried that her lack of interaction with children of eleven years would result in her blurting out something too intelligent or mature-sounding to the people on the train and she feared they would think her odd.

Having only interacted with Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas via correspondence, and exclusively with Miranda, Eugene and the adult family members of both, Hermione had grown accustomed to speaking the way she normally would were she still in the body of a eighteen year old witch and while they had appeared mildly surprised to begin with, it was just one more thing they'd accepted about her.

"We're going to miss you more than you know, sweetheart," Miranda replied, "It won't be the same at home without you."

"I promise I'll write every week, if not more frequently," Hermione smiled, knowing herself well enough to know she would keep the promise diligently.

"Pinky swear?" Eugene asked her, offering her his pinky over his shoulder as he drove. Miranda copied him and Hermione wrapped both of her pinky fingers around each of theirs with a wide smile.

"Now," Miranda said, "We know you're a very mature young lady, but we want you to be careful Hermione. So many young witches and wizard's running around, suddenly with access to wands for the first time in their lives could land you in a sticky situation and we would just die if anything happened to you."

"I'll be careful, I promise," Hermione nodded, "I'll do what I can to pull the others into line as well. No duelling in the corridors if I can help it."

"We're not saying don't have any fun or to be a stick in the mud, darling," Eugene said, "But we want you to be safe."

"Of course," Hermione nodded, "I'm sure you'll read all about it in my letters. Can I bring friends home with me at Christmas?"

"Of course you can," Miranda smiled, "We've got plenty of room. The more the merrier."

"But not the whole school, mind," Eugene grinned.

"I don't imagine I'll befriend the whole school, Eugene," Hermione laughed.

"Aim for the stars, honey," Miranda grinned, "There's nothing wrong with being popular and well-liked by your peers for being nice and approachable."

Hermione grinned, wondering how nice and approachable she would appear when she began befriending people like Severus Snape and the many other wayward students on the list Dumbledore had given her.

"I'll see what I can do," Hermione replied, noting the incredible speed of the enchanted car they drove in order to get to the station on time before the train left.

"Oh, I can't believe you're off to Hogwarts already," Miranda sighed, "I'm going to miss you terribly, you know?"

"I'll miss you too," Hermione smiled, "But you know I have to go. Besides, I'll write so often that you won't even know I'm away and I know you're both expecting to be very busy at work. I'm sure having me out of your hair after such long days will be a relief."

"We'll have to go back to making our own dinner when we get home," Eugene complained and Hermione laughed.

"I'm sure it will be alright. I froze some of that casserole you like, and there's stroganoff in the chiller as well, portioned up for the nights when you're too tired to bother with anything else."

"You're a true delight, do you know that?" Eugene asked her when he pulled into the parking lot outside the train station.

"Well, I didn't," Hermione grinned, "But I'm pleased you think so. Don't go eating them all at once though, or you'll have to fend for yourselves on those nights when you come home bone tired and can't be bothered with anything else. I won't have you two falling to buying take-out every other night."

"Are we the parents here?" Eugene laughed, "Or are you?"

"I like to think it's a mutually exclusive partnership that requires your permission for me to make decisions and allow me to do certain things due to my age," Hermione told him, grinning cheekily.

"Cheeky," Miranda accused as they both laughed.

"I like taking care of you the same way you both take care of me. Besides, cooking is fun," Hermione shrugged, "And it's only fair that I help you out around the house. You both did me a huge favour by taking me in and being so good to me."

Miranda's eyes filled with tears at her words and Hermione squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, smiling gently. She really was rather fond of her adoptive parents here and she didn't doubt her affection would only continue to grow for them the longer she spent with them.

"Oh I don't want you to go!" Miranda sobbed a little as Eugene helped Hermione with Cleopatra's cage and then dug her trunk out of the boot.

"But we do want you to put that brilliant mind of yours to use learning all the magic you can and want you to have a wonderful time at Hogwarts," Eugene added, grinning a little while he rubbed consoling circles on Miranda's back as she tried to contain her emotions.

"I'll be back before you know it," Hermione reassured Miranda, patting her back comfortingly, "We need to get inside or I'll miss the train."

"She's right love," Eugene told his wife, peeling her off Hermione.

Hermione led the way in, pushing her trunk and Cleopatra's cage along on the trolley Eugen had found for her. Her adoptive parents trailed along behind her, Eugene murmuring words of comfort to Miranda.

"Be good, you hear?" he told her, trying to appear stern for a moment.

"I'll try," Hermione smiled, "Promise you won't fall to ordering take-out every night?"

"I'll see what we can do," Eugene nodded, "Do you need help getting your things to a compartment?"

"I'll be alright," Hermione assured him, noticing out the corner of her eye the sight of a boy who could only be James Potter. It seemed what everyone had ever told her was true, Harry certainly had looked exactly like James. The messy haired boy was hugging his parents goodbye cheerfully and Hermione was struck by the stark contrast of the fact that Harry had never had the chance to be bid goodbye by loving parents before boarding the Hogwarts Express for the very first time. Nor any other time for that matter. The very thought struck a poignant chord with Hermione and suddenly all the thoughts she'd been plagued by regarding the possibility of time-travel being a mistake left her.

Yes, she was bereft without her real parents, and yes, she missed her friends terribly, but as she watched James Potter kiss his mother and father goodbye, Hermione ached to allow Harry the same privilege.

"Well, have a good term, love," Miranda said, giving her a watery smile before pulling Hermione into another hug.

"You won't even know I'm gone," Hermione smiled reassuringly, "And when I come home for Christmas I'll hopefully have a friend or two in tow."

"You'll make plenty of friends, Hermione," Eugene told her, giving her a hug as well when Miranda released her, "Be safe. Be good. Study hard. Don't forget to write to us."

"I promise," Hermione smiled widely, nodding along with his instructions.

"You better get going, sweetheart. The train's about to leave."

Hermione gave them a brave smile and, collecting her things, she boarded the train carefully. It was mayhem on board as everywhere confused first years peered nervously into compartments. The elder returning students shoved and jostled the scared first years along, trying to locate friends they hadn't seen all summer. Hermione found herself being jostled by an older blonde boy whom, she realised with a start, could be none other than Lucius Malfoy. He looked entirely too similar to Draco to be anyone else and Hermione would know that sneering drawl anywhere.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy?" she asked when she felt him prodding her with his wand from behind.

"What's it to you, firstie?" Malfoy sneered.

"Nothing at all," Hermione answered, "I simply wondered. I've heard about you."

"Is that right?" he replied haughtily and Hermione cringed slightly when he gripped her shoulder, spinning her to face him before he looked her up and down speculatively.

"Just what things have you heard about me then?" he wanted to know, leaving Hermione feeling slightly like she'd been assaulted as a result of his scathing gaze being dragged over every inch of her. She could read judgement in his eyes.

"I heard you're the new Slytherin prefect this year," Hermione told him honestly, "When I noticed your robes and your badge, I wondered if you were Malfoy."

"Maybe I am," he replied, "You're either very brave or very foolish to be speaking to your betters so brazenly, little girl."

An outrageous indignation filled Hermione at his statement before she recalled that he had no idea of her name, her blood status or anything else about her.

"I disagree," she replied, adopting a haughty drawl she'd heard Draco Malfoy used a million times, "It's important to establish who can and cannot be trusted. I would hate to make certain intimacies that would prove ill-advised at a later date."

He eyed her speculatively for a long moment in silence, clearly having put aside his need to locate his friends for a few minutes in shock over her conversation with him.

"Indeed?" he asked, raising one pale eyebrow challengingly.

"Hence discovering if you are in fact Lucius Malfoy," Hermione nodded primly, "I'm Hermione Lyall-Granger."

She offered her hand to the boy haughtily.

"Lyall, eh?" he said, staring at her for a few moments more before finally shaking her hand. Hermione could honestly say it was a strange experience, but one she suspect might prove important at a later date. He was, after all, a Prefect and a Slytherin. She also knew he was already being groomed for joining the ranks of the Death Eaters, so it stood to reason that in her attempts to change things here, he would either be a powerful ally or a prominent adversary.

"That's right," she nodded. She had chosen to include the name of her adoptive parents as her own, realising that she would not at all be welcomed in Slytherin if she went about blabbing that she was muggleborn. They would turn on her faster than she could say Crumple Horned Snorcacks. Eugene had mention that he had been in Slytherin, indicating that there might be a few of the older students who were beginning school when Eugene had been in his final years. Maybe if they recognised the name they might think more amicably of her joining their ranks. Even if they did do the math and realise she was much too old to be Eugene daughter biologically.

"And what house are you looking to enter when you arrive at Howgarts, Lyall?" Malfoy drawled.

"Slytherin," Hermione answered without preamble, having no doubt that while she would indeed follow to whatever house Snape was put in, she knew it would be Slytherin.

"How very interesting," Malfoy smirked, looking intrigued now, "Well the first thing you should learn about being in Slytherin is to stay out of the way of your superiors. And you're in my way."

"A pleasure to have met you, I'm sure," Hermione retorted, turning back towards her trunk and her cat and beginning to haul them along the narrow train corridor.

"That tongue will get you in trouble, girl," Malfoy warned from behind her when he stopped a few compartments later.

"I'll be sure to take that under advisement, Malfoy," Hermione replied evenly, glancing at him over her shoulder. He held her gaze for a moment before he returned his attention to the compartment he was about to enter.

Hermione continued on down the corridor until she reached a compartment that bore the soul she was looking for. She didn't have to be a genius to spot Severus Snape sitting in a compartment with Lily Evans. Lily was a slight as Harry had been in first year, her green eyes all too familiar too Hermione and her vibrant red hair pulled into a messy ponytail. The dark haired boy with her could only be Snape. Hermione had learned before she'd left her own timeline that Snape had been picked on mercilessly by James and Sirius for his appearance, his shabby clothing and his fascination with the Dark Arts. As she surreptitiously peered through the glass into the compartment he shared with Lily, Hermione could hardly say she was surprised.

When she'd spotted James on the platform, he'd looked the epitome of a spoiled, pampered child. His robes had gleamed brand new, his trunk was shiny and stamped with his initials. In harsh comparison Snape was, for want of a better word, utter shabby. His clothing hung off his skinny frame as though it had been purchased too large. It also bore the marks of being second-hand, if the faded and slightly stained state of the fabric was any indication.

Hermione felt a surge of pity rise within her when she also noticed that his hair was long and unkempt, though looked slightly jagged in places. She suspected he might've tried to tidy it up himself with a pair of kitchen scissors, rather unsuccessfully. The poor boy was a walking sign-post of being from a poor family that cared little for him. So little that they hadn't bothered or couldn't afford to make sure he looked alright for his Hogwarts debut.

Unable to resist the urge to do something to help the poor boy, Hermione slipped her wand from her sleeve and surreptitiously pointed it under her arm and through the window of the compartment under the pretence of shuffling aside to let some senior students bowl past. She started with a cleaning spell for his person, though she didn't doubt he bathed, making sure to focus heavily on his greasy hair. Next she muttered a resizing charm for his robes, listening to the squawk of surprise that came from inside the compartment when the clothing shrank to fit him more snugly, whilst the length of his trouser legs extended slightly until they reached his somewhat shabby shoes.

She used a repairo charm to repair all the little holes and patches of wear on his robes and his shoes. She was grateful suddenly that, though she was still getting used to feeling as though her eighteen year old soul had been cramped into an eleven year old boy, she retained the magical abilities of an eighteen year old. It meant she was far smarter and far more powerful than her peers, which would undoubtedly be advantageous, but it also allowed her to manipulate certain situations - such as this one - to her advantage. One of her biggest goals was to try and prevent the instant and irrevocable hatred between Snape and the Marauders. If she could have them getting along, to some extent, it would make things easier and much smoother in the long run. Though she was worried that if there was too much amicability, Lily might choose to fall for Snape instead of James and thus preventing the saviour of the wizarding world from ever being born.

Hermione was walking a fine line between the butterfly effect and the common good of the world, and already it was tiring. Before she made any decision or took any course of action, she was needing to ensure that she considered how those actions would effect the overall outcome of the world she'd known in the future. It wouldn't do to have James and Lily not become a couple, thereby preventing Harry's birth. Similarly, it wouldn't do to work against fate and try to change things overmuch. She shuddered to think what might go wrong. Much of the time she'd spent since she'd arrived on this timeline had been dedicated to Arithmantic projections of possible futures as she tried to quantify what she could and could not change.

She had come to the conclusion that while she could prevent Snape being picked on for being quite so shabby and unattractive - hence drawing the mockery from his peers - she could not allow Snape and the Marauders to be friends. If that happened, Snape would never call Lily a mudblood and they might end up dating instead of fighting. That would be utterly woeful. As such, she made sure to provide him more suitable, if still second-hand and worn clothing, combined with personal hygiene, but she made no move to alter his poorly cut hair, nor to offer him any chance to fix his rather unfortunate appearance. His nose would stay as hooked as ever, his teeth as crooked and yellowed - though a toothbrush and a roll of floss might be in order (she was after all, at her heart, a Dentist's daughter - and his hair would remain, for the most part, as greasy and poorly styled as she'd ever recalled it. Even if she had discovered during a recent snogging incidence with his grown-future version, that his hair was in fact incredibly silky.

"Are you doing that Lily?" he asked in a suspicious voice, clearly alarmed by the changes. He'd jumped to his feet and pulled his wand, looking around darkly as though fearful of some foreign threat. Hermione took careful consideration of the way he asked Lily if she was responsibly, though continued to avoid pointing his wand at the redhead.

"I don't think that's the type of magic a first year could pull off, Sev," Lily Evans replied, "Maybe there's a charm on the train? You know I've only mastered silly little parlour tricks and a few of the easy spells from my textbooks."

Hermione tucked her wand into her sleeve hurriedly before she could get caught. Then she pulled open the rolling door of the compartment.

"Is it alright if I sit in here?" she asked politely from the doorway. She caught the way Snape narrowed his eyes at her and looked like he wanted to say no. She could see in a heartbeat that he and Lily clearly had known each other before that morning and that he guarded her friendship jealously.

"Of course you can," Lily Evans smiled kindly, those green eyes Hermione knew so well lighting up at the idea of making a friend.

"Thanks," Hermione said, hauling her trunk and Cleo's cage into the compartment.

"Oh, let me help you with your trunk," Lily offered immediately, getting up to hurry over and help Hermione struggle to get the large trunk into the overhead rack, "I'm Lily Evans."

"Thanks for your help. I'm Hermione Lyall-Granger," Hermione said offering her hand to Lily and smiling when the girl shook it.

"This is Sev," Lily said, waving her hand at Snape.

"Severus Snape," the boy told her, still eyeing her suspiciously even as he held out his hand and shook her hand as well.

"It's wonderful to meet you," Hermione smiled widely, "Do either of you mind if I let Cleo out? She doesn't much like being confined."

"What is it?" Snape muttered to Lily.

"She's a cat," Hermione admitted, prodding the sleeping feline awake as she opened the door, "I know she's not very pretty, but she loves to cuddle."

"I think she's lovely," Lily said, "My little monster is over there."

Hermione glanced in the direction of the seat beside Lily, suddenly noticing there was an enormous black fluffy cat stretched out along the top of the seat, fast asleep.

"Oh you've got one too," Hermione exclaimed excitedly, "I was worried everyone was going to have owls."

"Sev's got a snake," Lily grinned, waving a hand at Snape.

"Really?" Hermione asked, eyeing the boy again, "Can I see?"

"You want to see a snake?" Snape asked sceptically, raising his eyebrows challengingly in a way that was entirely Snape. Hermione felt a smile curl across her face at the sight of the well known expression her Potions Master so often wore. Seeing the expression on his eleven year old face was disconcerting and yet it had almost the same effect as when he was her teacher - she instantly wanted to prove him wrong.

"Of course. I love animals. They're fascinating. I want to work for the Ministry regarding the treatment of magical creatures within the wizarding world when I finish Hogwarts," Hermione announced, realising suddenly that it was true. In her own time, during the war, thoughts of what she would do after Hogwarts had revolved around helping Harry defeat Voldemort. Now that she had time to consider what she'd like to do, she realised she did want to improve the legislation surrounding the treatment of magical creatures like the house elves and several other, more intriguing species.

"You already know what you want to do when you finish school?" Lily asked sounding mildly awed.

"Don't you?" Hermione asked as Snape withdrew a three foot long, green python from his pocket, having to fish it's head out from under his shirt. If she had to guess from the way the beast was wriggling in his grip, coiling around his arms and hissing in warning, Hermione would suspect he'd caught it himself and had yet to tame it very well.

"I'm new to the magical world," Lily admitted, though Hermione noticed the way she eyed the snake warily. She was sporting a band-aid on her left hand, Hermione noticed, and it made Hermione think the snake had bitten her, "I don't even know the full realm of possible career choices yet."

"Your parents are muggles?" Hermione asked, smiling at her as she feigned ingnorance of truths she already knew for the sake of keeping her secrets.

"Yes. They were surprised but a little relived, I think, when my letter came," Lily admitted and Hermione could see the same naivety she'd had the first time she'd come to Hogwarts as a muggleborn witch.

"What about you Sev?" Hermione asked, looking at him.

"My mum's a witch," he answered grudgingly.

"What about your dad?" Hermione asked, feigning ignorance furhter as she probed for more information that he'd given her in her own time. Hermione saw a dark look pass over his eyes, anger flashing in those black depths at the questions. Lily cringed next to him at the mention of Snape's father and Hermione realised that what Snape had shared with her before her return in time about his father being abusive must already be applicable. He was abusive and a drunk. Hermione felt a twinge of concern for his safety, wondering idly if beneath those mis-sized robes he'd been hiding evidence of such abuse. She would have to think of ways to rescue him from returning home whenever she could. She didn't at all like the idea of a child, any child, being unsafe in their own home with their own families.

"Muggle bastard," Snape muttered under his breath.

"Can I hold your snake?" Hermione asked him, changing the subject quickly when she realised it was not a topic for a first encounter. That kind of information would have to pried out of the boy slowly over the coming months.

"He'll get away from you," Snape warned her, "He's wily. And he bites strangers. He bit Lily yestereday"

"I promise I'll hunt _her_ down if _she_ does. I'm not afraid," Hermione promised, taking the hissing reptile from Snape. She held it awkwardly from a moment, hissing in return with the beast struck at her exposed forearm viciously and drew blood.

"That wasn't nice," Hermione admonished the snake, ignoring the sting of the bite and the little trickle of blood that oozed over her skin, "Do you know if that she's female?"

"Male," Snape said, frowning a little, and Hermione caught the flash of begrudging admiration in his eyes that she didn't react poorly to being bitten.

"No, she's female. She's going to get much bigger than this, you know that don't you?" Hermione asked, twining the creature around her arm before she lifted it up to face height and looked it right in it's reptilian eyes.

"I know," Snape said, the expression vanishing in favour or suspicion once more as though he thought she believed him stupid.

"You're not going to bite me again, slithery one," she scolded the snake lightly but sternly. The reptile eyed her in response but made no further move to bite her now that she as supporting it's coiled body properly.

Both other occupants of the compartment eyed her strangely, Lily looking like she thought Hermine might be barmy and Snape looking like he couldn't believe the snake was behaving. Hermione wouldn't say she'd ever had much of a way with animals before, but she was making a more concentrated effort to do so, and it seemed to be paying off. At least a little.

"Does she have a name?" Hermione asked Snape serioursly.

"She?" he quirked an eyebrow as though wondering how she could possibly know it was a female snake.

"She's only half grown," Hermione told him, "And still young. Were she a male snake she would be older than she is. Males tend to be around four feet, where females of this species can reach up to six feet. Given her current size, in both length and weight, she's maybe only two years old and not yet fully grown. She'll get much bigger than this. If you cae for her properly, she might even grow longer than six feet. Do you know if she's a common green tree snake or if there's some magical species combined within her genetic make-up?

"Essy is her name," Snape responded, sounding mildly defensive, "And I don't know her species. I caught her in my backyard. I assumed, based her the fact that she got through the wards my mother erected to keep vermin out of our house, that she must be some subspecies of magical snake."

"Essy Snape," Hermione replied, stroking the snake's slender coils lightly for a few minutes before handing the python back to, "She's lovely. We could look into finding out her species if you like. I imagine there isn't a lot of crossbreeding between species, particularly between magical and muggle varities of serpent. You should work on teaching her to only bite on command though, for all we know her bite could be midly poisonous."

"If she were poisonous, we'd all be dead," Snape told her, holding out his hands to show that he too had been bitten several times by the serpent.

"Maybe so, but you never know. Perhaps she won't develop venom until she matures. Or perhaps her fangs are too small to deliver a does that does more than sting a bit," Hermione replied, "What's your cat's name, Lily?"

"Cygnus," Lily replied, fondly stroking the cat's thick black fur, "He's part kneazel."

Hermione caught the way Snape was bristling slightly over the idea of being told his snake might be a problem later, and clearly didn't like being so uninformed about his own pet, even if he had managed to catch it himself. She chose not to notice for the time being, knowing he was always bristling about something.

"I used to have a cat that was part kneazel," Hermione admitted quietly, thinking of Crookshanks even though she'd return to stroking Cleo's fur. She watched in mild fascination as Snape allowed his snake to slither up the sleeve of his robes. She tracked the progress of the reptile as it disappeared under his clothes, slithering up his chest and looping around the back of his neck. Hermione was surprised when the serpent nestled her head against his left collarbone while Snape fished the rest of her into the pocket of his trousers.

She'd never seen a tree snake do that, but then, she supposed the snake might be some magical breed she hadn't studied yet. She also realised he'd at least managed to tame it somewhat to behave when being carried on his person. Inexplicably Hermione was reminded of the way Ron had always carried Scabbers around in his pocket, before being devastated and at a loss when it turned out Scabbers was Pettigrew. For weeks she'd caught him stuffing random things in his pockets, trying to substitute the warm weight of his familiar. She imagined Snape would be the same, since it wouldn't be easy to keep a snake in the school without the proper caging and other things. Did he intend to be it's perch forever? Maybe he had some plan of keeping it on his bedposts at Hogwarts.

"Have you warned Lily about being muggleborn in the wizarding world, Sev?" Hermione asked when a strained sort of silence followed her announcement and her momentarily sad expression as she thought of Crookshanks.

"No," Snape admitted, wrinkling his brow a little as though surprised by the question and sudden topic change.

"She needs to know. Lily, in the magical world there are some wizards who believe in what they call blood purity. Meaning those of a purely magical bloodline. Some people might be cruel to you when they learn that your parents are muggles," Hermione told the redhead, refusing to allow the girl to learn the hard way – the way she had learned.

"Why?" Lily asked, frowning in confusion.

"Because they're morons," Hermione replied honestly, "Some wizarding families believe they are better than others due to being of long and uninterrupted lines of only those possessing magical blood. They call themselves purebloods; they're families like the Malfoys, the Blacks, the LeStranges, Goyles, Crabbes and Bulstrodes. There are more, of course, that are still considered purebloods due to their heritage. Those of pure blood who sympathise with or participate in relationships with muggleborns, muggles and half-bloods are called Blood Traitors... Now, there is something else you should know. Those families that I mentioned are prone to calling muggleborns by a foul name. Mudblood. If someone calls you a mudblood it means that they think you have dirty blood and aren't fit to be in their presence."

"That's horrible!" Lily exclaimed, looking alarmed.

"Most people are decent and would never call you that, but some will. You should be prepared for it, and know what it means so you don't make a fool of yourself," Hermione told her, shrugging.

"How do you know so much?" Snape wanted to know, watching her with that same suspicious expression he kept wearing.

"My parents are magical," Hermione shrugged, the lie coming easily enough to her tongue, "They told me all about it. I thought it might be prudent to warn Lily, given that her heritage might be cause for some discomfort to her in the future."

"Are you suggesting she should be ashamed that her parents are muggles?" Snape demanded.

"Of course not, just that she should be aware that there are some people we'll undoubtedly meet at school who will expect that and who will go out of their way to make her feel bad. People are mean," Hermione replied evenly, "And since both of you seem nice, I didn't want my new friend to be caught unawares about such things."

"Thank you for telling me Hermione," Lily said sincerely, "It's good of you to make sure I'm forewarned."

Hermione smiled at her happily; she was sitting opposite both Lily and Severus, who were sitting side by side. Just as she opened her mouth to say more, the door to the compartment suddenly slid open to reveal none other than James Potter and a boy who could only be Sirius Black.

"Mind if we squeeze in?" James asked, shoving his way into the compartment before any of them could reply. Hermione glanced over at Lily and Severus, who were eyeing the boys – Severus with suspicion and dislike; Lily with curiosity.

"I'm James Potter," James said when he'd shoved his trunk into the overhead compartment with Sirius's help.

"Sirius Black," Sirius tossed in as he threw himself down on the seat next to Hermione. Both of them had cages with disgruntled looking owls in them. Sirius had a barn owl, while James had what appeared to be a spotted owl. Hermione thought about suggesting they let the birds out to fly behind the train, but waited for introductions to be over first

"I'm Hermione Lyall-Granger," Hermione told them, shaking the hands they both offered her, unable to keep from smiling at the pair of them. James was entirely too much like Harry for Hermione's comfort and she knew she would have to work hard not to call him Harry by accident.

"This is Lily Evans," Hermione pointed to Lily, who smiled brightly before shaking hands with both of them, "And Severus Snape."

Hermione caught the way Severus was eyeing James coldly for the way he rumpled his hair before shaking Lily's hand and she could tell he was already disliking the boy. Rolling her eyes to herself, she realised that she really was going to have her work cut out for her in an attempt to keep them all from fighting too badly over the next few years.

"Nice to meetcha," Sirius smirked at them and Hermione found herself eyeing him speculatively. Even as an eleven year old Sirius was handsome. He simply bled aristocracy and charisma, from the way he lounged so comfortably while seeming so regal, to the casual way he flicked his long, raven-black hair. Unlike Snape's it was perfectly trimmed and Hermione could tell that he obviously spent a great deal of time and money caring for his hair. The locks were long and sleek, gleaming with health though it was styled into casual disarray. It struck Hermione that where Snape's hair and James's hair were messy by nature due to lack of care - or constant ruffling, as the case may be - Sirius's was messy in a way that probably took him an hour to perfect each morning. It made her laugh just a little bit to think of Sirius Black spending an hour doing his hair every morning.

"So what house do you want to be in at Hogwarts?" James asked casually, grinning as he rumpled his hair again, darting a glance at Lily and then Hermione.

"Slytherin," Snape answered immediately.

"Eugh, why?" Sirius asked, curling his lip back from his teeth and looking disgusted.

"Aren't you a Black?" Hermione frowned at him, "Don't your entire family go through Syltherin?"

"Not me," he shook his head, "I'm not following in the footsteps of those blood supremacist maniacs."

"Slytherin is caught up in blood mania?" Lily asked, sinking a little in her seat and darting a glance at Hermione uncertainly before looking at Snape as though fearful.

"Salazar Slytherin, one of the Hogwarts founders, was a blood supremacist," Hermione confirmed, "Many people within Slytherin house are from pureblood families, but being in Slytherin doesn't mean one has to be a bad person or a blood supremacist. The house is known for accepting students who are ambitious, driven and cunning."

"It's a snake pit filled with vipers more likely to turn on you for a political alliance or money than a place to make real friends," James told them, looking disgusted by the very idea of anyone defending Slytherin.

"And thus inter-house rivalry is born," Hermione muttered.

"You're heading for Slytherin too then?" Sirius asked, slanting a glance in her direction, his grey eyes assessing her face with interest.

"I believe all of the houses have merit," Hermione replied primly, "I also believe that the idea of a mind-reading Hat telling us who we should be and the type of company we belong in when we're eleven years old is a mistake. Yes, we need to belong to a house in order to be awarded points for good deeds, and punished for bad ones, and yes, we need somewhere to call home whilst living in the castle. But why should that mean that having a penchant for any particular house is a good or bad thing?"

"You sound like a Ravenclaw," James told her.

"I could be a Ravenclaw," Hermione nodded, "I have an insatiable curiosity and a thirst for knowledge that would fit me very well in that house. Or I could be Hufflepuff. I'm not afraid of hard work, nor of being loyal to those I call friend and those I vow to help. Or I could be a Gryffindor. I'm not afraid to stand up and fight for the things that I believe in. Similarly, I'm ambitious about the things I intend to achieve academically and when I've graduated, so I could fit into Slytherin as well. Why should being placed in one over any of the others make me any less valuable a person to those placed in different house? I wouldn't think less of Lily for being in Gryffindor if I were put in Slytherin. I would hope she wouldn't think less of me. The point is, why should it be such a big deal?"

"It determines who you share a dormitory with," James pointed out, "And who you spend many of your classes with. Forges the friendships you'll hold throughout your entire schooling."

"But that doesn't mean you can't be friends with people outside of that house. Look at us here now, we might very well belong in different houses, but that doesn't mean we can't already be friends and continue to be. Why should such a label define who we associate with?" Hermione pointed out, grinning a little at the affronted expressions that Snape, Sirius and James all wore over the idea of challenging inter-house rivalry before the year had even begun. Lily looked on board with what she was saying.

"But," James began, rumpling his hair again and looking perplexed, "Slytherin and Gryffindor hate each other."

"They don't have to," Hermione insisted, "They dislike each other because those in Slytherin tend to be somewhat enamoured with learning of the Dark Arts, where Gryffindors are morally opposed to such pursuits. Quidditch, of course, only exasperates matters but there's no reason people can't be friends just because they possess different personality traits and qualities. I'm not saying that we should all go out befriending murderers and psychopaths, but variety among a group of friends is important. Do you really want to go through life only associating with people who fit in the same little bubble as you and who don't make you challenge your beliefs and ideas with a differing perspective?"

"Trust me Lyall," Sirius cut in seriously, "I can tell you from personal experience that people who favour Slytherin house are twisted and messed up. I live with them. I was raised by them. And the further I can get away from them and their poison, the better."

"But that's because the Black family, for the most part, is notoriously blood purist and disdain those of lesser birth and blood status. Yet your very statements prove that not all of you are bad. If you can be different from them, from your own flesh and blood, why can't a mish-mash of strangers that belong to the same house still have some diamonds among the dirt?" Hermione challenged.

"You think too much," James accused in a whiny voice, holding his head as though talking to her had made it ache.

"That's probably true," Hermione conceded with a rueful smile, "I do tend to overanalyse things. My point is, why should the potential friendships that could form between all of us be dashed before it can begin just because Sev and I favour Slytherin while the two of you are leaning towards Gryffindor?"

"I like you," Lily announced, looking at Hermione.

"Thanks Lily," Hermione grinned, "I think you're pretty wonderful too."

"I like that you make me think. I honestly don't know what house I belong in... What are the traits each are most known for again?" Lily asked, frowning.

"You're muggleborn, aren't you Evans?" Sirius asked knowingly.

"You got a problem with that, Black?" Lily asked, lifting her chin defensively.

"Makes you all the more attractive, in my opinion," Sirius replied cheekily and Hermione saw Snape glare at Sirius for his comment while Lily blushed and giggled a bit.

"Each house is characterised as possessing more of one quality than the other," Hermione explained to the girl, getting back on topic, "Gryffindors are known for being brave, daring and chivalrous. Most are considered rather reckless and impulsive, but for the most part those of Gryffindor house are generally good, decent people. Hufflepuffs are known for their loyalty. Hufflepuffs tend to be the nicest people around; they're open and generous with their compliments, and while they might not show great feats of academic brilliance or shows of bravery or cunning, they are hard workers who toil until they get what they want. Ravenclaws are the smarties of the group. They're very academically driven and spend much of their time pursuing knowledge, though there are some among them who are incredibly creative as well. Slytherins are known for being rather ruthless and less scrupulous than the other houses, hence their bad reputation. Generally Slytherins are sly, cunning and ambitious. They'll do whatever it takes to get what they want."

"Oh," Lily said, "And we're sorted into one of the four?"

"Yes," Snape answered, "Tonight when we reach the castle we'll be sorted in front of the whole school."

"How do they determine where we belong?" Lily asked, looking worried now.

"They have a Sorting Hat," James smiled reassuringly, "You put the hat on and it tells you where you go."

"But how does a hat know where to put me?" Lily asked, frowning in confusion.

"It's a magical hat," Hermione told her honestly, "It's sentient. It looks into your mind using Legilimency and determines which traits are strongest in you. Then it places you."

"What's Legilimency?" James asked, blinking at her in confusion.

"Legilimency is the act of magically navigating through the many layers of a person's mind and correctly interpreting one's findings," Hermione rattled off the definition.

"Mind reading," Snape said and Hermione caught the intrigue glowing in his dark eyes. She wondered if it was intrigue with the dark art itself, or with her for knowing about it.

"Not exactly," Hermione corrected, "Mind reading implies that one's thoughts can simply be perused with the ease of picking up a book and taking in the information within the pages. Legilimency is more like climbing into someone else's head and finding yourself in another world. Generally, as people, we think and speak in sentences, but the mind is so much more than that. There are memories, feelings, bodily functions, thoughts and imaginings all rattling around in there, gumming up the place. In your own mind, for example, there are things you might think but not say. Things you might imagine doing, without actually putting the idea into action. All of those things make up the layers of the mind. Legilimency is the art of perusing those layer and working out what is thought, what is memory, what is action, what is clutter. On our own, in our own heads, we manage ok. Climbing into someone else's would be like finding yourself floundering in a turbulent ocean and not knowing how to reach the surface."

James and Sirius shared a look and Hermione knew they were judging her for being such a know it all. Lily looked utterly fascinated and Snape was regarding her coolly. She could tell he didn't like being corrected but she could also tell he was interested in her definition and it the magical art. She wasn't surprised.

"You know everything, don't you Lyall?" Sirius smirked at her.

"Not yet," Hermione grinned at him in return, "But I'm working on it."

James snorted at her truthful answer, clearly amused.

"Nerd," he accused good-naturedly.

"There's more to the wizarding world than Quidditch, you know?" she smirked in return, feeling very much like Draco Malfoy with the expression on her face but not minding. It would come in good practice.

"I'll bet you know all about Quidditch too then?" Sirius asked her.

"No," Hermione shook her head, "I understand the rules, and I know some of the names for the fancy manoeuvres and tactics, but I'm no expert. I don't much enjoy flying, you see, so while I appreciate the sport, I've never had much interest in playing or in following the league."

"You don't like to fly?" James asked, looking devastated.

"I _can_ fly," Hermione assured him, "But I don't like heights very much. So it's a little too much anxiety to be hurtling about the place on an enchanted cleaning tool, hundreds of feet above the ground."

"Are you a half-blood?" James asked her, "I've heard the name Lyall before, but not Lyall-Granger."

"Yes, I am," Hermione lied. She needed to keep her muggleborn heritage hidden if she wanted to last five minutes in Slytherin with Snape.

"What about you Snape?" Sirius asked, "You interested in Quidditch?"

Snape nodded his head, "I don't know much about the league either, but I want to play."

"We should get him into the Bats," James grinned.

"Nah, don't be a tosspot Potter, no one except you like the Bats. Where are you from Snape?" Sirius asked, and Hermione caught the way his eyes travelled over Snape's attire and appearance. It was clear to anyone with eyes that he must be from a poor family, hence the second-hand robes and the bad haircut.

"Spinner's End," Snape admitted, confirming to Hermione that the place the Snape who'd been her Professor had never bothered to move out of his family home.

"Nearest team to there is probably the Cannons," James mused, twirling his wand in one hand absently before ruffling his hair with the other.

"Cannons are a good team. Last time they won the league was in 1892, but that's neither here nor there, they just need fresh blood," Sirius told him, "So there you have it, Snape. You're a Chudley Cannons fan from here on out. James loves the Ballycastle Bats. I'm a Falmouth Falcons fans myself. And every bloke worth his salt is a Harpies fan."

"Why?" Lily wanted to know, frowning a bit over the idea of them all favouring different teams yet all liking one.

"The Holyhead Harpies are the only all girl's Quidditch team in the league," James explained to her, ruffling his hair again. Hermione had to admit, she suddenly understood why Snape had claimed it was an infuriating habit. It was both distracting, and somehow endearing to see him looking constantly windswept like he'd just leapt off a broom. Hermione recalled the way Harry had always tried to get his own crazy hair to lie flat and wondered how different her friend might have been if he'd been raised by James rather than his horrible aunt and uncle.

"How sexist," Lily wrinkled her nose.

"Oh contraire, Evans, those chicks are the hottest women on brooms and they're a formidable team. They were the only ones who would take on the Arrows last year after half the Arrows team was suspended for excessively rough play. I'm talking people died during matches with the Arrows. No one else would play them and it looked like the Arrows would have to follow the path of the Bangers and disband, but then the Harpies took them on and beat them too," James told her.

"It's still sexist to favour them because they're all female," Lily insisted.

"They're good though," Hermione pointed out, "And arguing that men the world over shouldn't fancy them for being all female is a waste of time. In the magical world the Harpies might as well be lingerie models for the way they're ogled."

Lily glanced at her before looking like she still objected but chose to hold her tongue, sensing, as Hermione had, that it was pointless to argue with boys about the Harpies team.

"I can't wait to try out for the school teams" James admitted, ruffling his hair again.

"They don't accept first years, James," Hermione informed him, "Except in dire circumstances when no one else can be found."

"What? That's bang out of order," Sirius grumbled, looking annoyed by that fact.

"The teachers consider it too dangerous, and I'm inclined to agree with them. Quidditch is a dangerous game with far less rules than most muggle sports. The risk to such young and inexperienced students would be entirely too high."

"You're such a nerd, Lyall," Sirius informed her, rolling his eyes at her argument against allowing first years to play. Hermione shrugged her shoulders, not really concerned by his assessment. She recalled all too acutely how badly injured Harry had been during Quidditch and knew that the longer students were kept from playing, the more they had a chance to learn the rules and grow without taking a bludger to the head.

As the boys continued chatting about Quidditch, Hermione let her mind wander for a bit, sighing as she stroked Cleo's fur softly and feeling good about this first meeting. After so long spent worrying about it, it was a relief to finally have it out of the way. Though, as she sat there, Hermione found herself wondering where Remus was.


	10. Chapter 10: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

**A/N: Look, another juicy chapter. I'm spoiling you! Much love! xx-Kitten.**

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**Of Ticking Clocks &amp; Beating Hearts**

_By Kittenshift 17_

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**Chapter 10: Aboard the Hogwarts Express**

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When they were halfway to Hogwarts, Hermione got up in search of the loo and with the intention of changing into her robes in preparation for their arrival. She had spent most of the trip lounging in the compartment alongside Snape, Lily, James and Sirius. The latter two boys had spent much of the ride thus far discussing Quidditch, playing a game of chess and several rounds of exploding snap.

Lily had looked on during both of the wizarding pass-times with keen interest, her green eyes lighting up at the sight of the chess pieces moving independently. Snape had appeared rather envious of the gold chess set James had pulled out of his trunk as though it were nothing. Being from a rich old pureblood family, Sirius hadn't batted an eye over the expensive set.

Severus and Lily were clearly unaccustomed to such wealth and Hermione had known at a glance that Severus was jealous of both other boys and somewhat disdainful as only the poor could be of those better off than themselves. Hermione had sought to distract him by plying him questions about how he'd captured Essy, his snake, and about the types of things he was most looking forward to studying at Hogwarts. Already his love of the Dark Arts and his knack for potions was showing itself.

She'd felt a little bit bad when Lily had looked stumped by some things when she and Severus had begun a mild argument over the best uses of valerian root. She had also noticed that Snape took the extra time to inform the muggle-born girl of what Valerian root was and of the types of potions they were discussing that it was most often used it. Lily had looked grateful to be better informed but Hermione had caught the look in her green eyes just the same. The look that Hermione recognised all too well from her own time spent as a muggle-born witch unsure of how things worked in the wizarding world.

It was the look of a determined girl intending to make sure she would never have to sit around feeling stupid for not knowing something that seemed to be common knowledge to everyone else. It was the look of a burgeoning bookworm about to take to the texts with ravenous intent to devour any and all knowledge. Hermione couldn't find it in herself to feel too badly for the girl. A moment's confusion ensured a life-time of good grades and a constant understanding of the world around her. She only lamented that there wasn't some kind of bridging course given to muggle-born students prior to the start of term that would ensure they had a basic understanding of the magical world.

Hermione herself had insisted on being allowed to purchase many books on the subject and had had almost an entire year prior to beginning term for the first time in her original timeline. Born on the 19th of September Hermione had fallen just outside the age bracket of those allowed to enter Hogwarts and so had turned eleven nineteen days too late to be admitted. Instead she'd had and entire year to research the magical world and she'd already been ravenous of knowledge and books by then, eager to learn as much as she could about the new world she'd been told she belonged in.

Maybe in her free time she would look into writing such a book as to offer to muggleborn students, focusing on the types of things that purebloods and halfbloods – indeed anyone with magical family members or anyone raised in a magical household – knew from birth. Things like the way spells worked and why owls were used to carry the post. Things like what to expect when arriving at Hogwarts and interacting with other magical students. She felt it important that more mugleborns be raised to be more aware of the fact that their circumstances were the cause for some discrimination from their peers.

She would need to discuss it with Dumbledore of course, but Hermione knew it was a good idea. She'd have killed for the chance to access such a book in her own time when she'd first learned of the magical world.

Despite all that, however, Hermione was concerned over the fact that she'd yet to encounter Remus. She knew from the past stories that Remus and Sirius had shared with her that the boys had met on the train and she found it surprising that he hadn't turned up yet. As she changed into her uniform, marvelling at fitting into the small robes once more – Hermione decided it might be time to go looking for him. She didn't want to upset the time line by having James and Sirius remain in the compartment she'd been using instead of moving on after having a fight with Severus and Lily.

Scouring the train, Hermione peered into the many occupied compartments, unsure of what he looked like at eleven but suspecting she would know him on sight nonetheless.

"What are you doing Lyall?" a familiar voice drawled from behind her as she searched the train. Hermione turned slowly to star up at Lucius Malfoy. He was clearly in the middle of patrolling the train, as per his prefect duties.

"I'm looking for someone, Malfoy," she replied evenly, "Don't suppose you've seen a boy – a first year – sitting by himself anywhere? Maybe with a pudgy little blonde boy?"

"What if I have?" Malfoy smirked.

Hermione sighed.

"What do you want for the information?" she asked him, doubting he wanted gold since he already had so much of it.

"What are you willing to give me for it?" the older boy bargain.

"Not much," Hermione shrugged, "If I keep looking I'll eventually find him, with or without your assistance."

Malfoy's grey eyes narrowed on her slightly and Hermione allowed herself a little smirk, realising she'd outsmarted him by proving she was willing to find the answer without his help if he didn't want to cooperate.

"You're going to get yourself in trouble, girl," he informed her, "As for the boy you're looking for… well it might be that there's a boy alone in a compartment I've inspected. Why are you looking for him?"

Hermione grinned widely.

"He's my friend. I think he might have gotten lost after leaving the compartment to get changed into his robes," Hermione lied smoothly, hefting the wad of folded up clothing she was carrying to indicate she'd changed recently herself.

Lucius rolled his eyes at her answer.

"He's right down the end of the train," Lucius told her, pointing, "You better watch yourself, Lyall. You go poking into everyone's things like this all the time and you might not like what you find."

"Thanks for your assistance, Lucius," Hermione replied sweetly, fixing a big sly smile on her face and causing him to narrow his eyes on her further before Hermione skipped off down the corridor of the train to the very last compartment.

When she reached it she peered through the glass at the solitary boy sitting inside. He looked rather sorry for himself and sort of like he'd chosen to sit away from others on purpose. Either out of concern over being around them when he believed himself to be a monster – or out of fear of being around others his own age when he'd spent his whole life being hidden away from the world and disdained by his werewolf-loathing father.

Realising Malfoy was still watching her, Hermione smiled brightly and slid open the door to the compartment before stepping inside.

"Hello," she greeted him with a bright smile, "My name is Hermione."

Remus looked at her, startled, his hazel eyes wide as though fearful of her presence and her bright greeting.

"Remus…" he mumbled when Hermione smiled and waited for him to tell her his name.

"It's wonderful to meet you Remus," Hermione told him, "What are you doing sitting in here all by yourself?"

"I… there was… um… well, I didn't… um," Remus stammered clearly shocked by her question.

"Only, there's plenty of room in my compartment further down the train. You should come and sit with me and my new friends. Are you a first year?" Hermione asked, reaching for his trunk and meaning to help him move it down the train.

"I… yes I'm new this year…. Oh, don't you'll…" Remus said, shooting to his feet just as Hermione tugged his trunk from the shelf before she realised it weighed a ton when it topple down on top of her.

"Hurt yourself," Remus finished, reaching for the trunk where it had fallen badly and was half crushing Hermione.

"Ouch!" Hermione exclaimed, "Do you have a library worth of text books in there? Even my trunk isn't that heavy. And I did put a library worth of text books inside."

"Sorry," Remus muttered, hefting it with far too much ease for a regular eleven year old boy, "I um… my mum, she… well she wanted to make sure I was prepared for everything."

Hermione got the feeling based on the sound she could hear coming from his trunk that there were actually some heavy metal chains in there. She wouldn't be a bit surprised. Remus was the type who would think to chain himself up every full moon.

"Well it's awfully heavy," Hermione told him, rubbing the top of her head where it throbbed a little, "Do you need some help with it?"

"You want me to move to your compartment?" he asked looking alarmed now.

"Of course I do. My friends and I have plenty of space left and besides, you can't sit here all by yourself. How will you make any friends it you don't talk to people?" Hermione grinned at him.

His sandy-blonde hair hung into his eyes and over his face slightly, partially concealing the scar that marred his otherwise handsome features. His hazel eyes were still wide with concern over being accosted by a bossy, perky little girl who was trying to kidnap him to another compartment and thus force him to interact with boys who would one day be his best friends.

Hermione smiled at him brightly again, hoping he would comply.

"Um…" Remus said, biting his lip nervously.

"Come on," Hermione told him, reaching for his hand and tugging him along while he hauled his trunk along one handed.

He made no further protests and she hauled him right out of the compartment and away down the length of the train to the compartment she had been sharing with James, Sirius, Severus and Lily.

"There you are!" Lily cried, "I though you must have gotten lost."

"Not lost," Hermione smiled at the girl, tugging Remus into the compartment with her, "But I found Remus sitting in a compartment by himself so I invited him to join us. Remus, this is Severus, Lily, James and Sirius."

She pointed to each of her new friend respectively.

"Hey mate," James waved, giving him a big grin and getting up to shake his hand. Remus was clearly startled by all the attention but he shook hands with everyone in the compartment when they all got up to greet him.

"Let us give you a hand with that," Sirius offered, reaching for his trunk.

"Oh… um it's… really heavy," Remus warned, allowing Sirius to pull on it but lugging it up to the overhead compartment by himself.

"Bloody hell, did you pack it full of bricks?" Sirius complained as he hauled it. James got up to help as well and Hermione could tell Remus was downplaying his ability to lift it by himself to avoid being caught out as freakishly strong.

"My um… my Mum she… well she wanted to make sure I had everything. She insisted on me bringing more books that I know what to do with," Remus admitted.

"That's ok," Hermione told him, "I have just as many. You want some sweets? We got these off the trolley when it came by."

She waved her hand to the pile of candy they'd purchased – mostly James being entirely too generous with his money and reminding Hermione of Harry and how much she missed him. Severus was picking at the candy carefully, as was Lily. It was clear they didn't have much money for things like sweets and so weren't allowed them very often.

"Um… maybe a chocolate frog?" Remus asked nervously and Hermione grinned before handing him one.

"So what house do you think you'll be in Remus?" James asked him.

"I don't know," Remus admitted, "My Dad was in Gryffindor but my Mum was in Ravenclaw. Probably one of those."

"I'm going to be in Gryffindor," James announced, ruffling his hair distractedly, "So's Sirius."

"What about you, Hermione?" Remus asked her carefully, his cheeks turning pink as he asked such a question and Hermione began to suspect that Remus wasn't used to interacting with people his own age. She'd always believed his parents might've locked him away from the world when he'd been bitten. She could recall mention of his father very publicly loathing werewolves, so she suspected they'd hid Remus and his condition.

"I think I'll be in Slytherin. With Sev," Hermione nodded her head at Snape, "Lily's not sure yet where she wants to go."

"Oh," Remus smiled gently, "Is that your cat?"

He pointed to Cleo where she was curled up on the back of the chair behind Hermione's head.

"Yes," Hermione smiled, "This is Cleo. Would you like to pet her?"

Remus hesitated. Hermione wondered if her cat would dislike him. Some cats tended to dislike werewolves. Though neither Cleo nor Cygnus had reacted to his presence in the compartment.

"Don't disturb her if she's happy sleeping," Remus said finally, nibbling on his chocolate frog hungrily.

Hermione nodded in agreement before Remus was drawn into conversation about Quidditch with James and Sirius. Snape had grown bored of Quidditch talk and Hermione watched him pull a textbook on the Dark Arts out of his trunk before he settled back down to read it. She'd moved over upon her return to the compartment, allowing Remus the spot she'd been sitting in and choosing instead to sit beside Snape.

"Tell me about you, Lily," Hermione said to the girl, talking across Snape while he buried his nose in the book, "Do you have any siblings?"

Lily nodded brightly, "I have a sister, Petunia. She's a muggle."

"She's a bitch," Snape muttered.

Lily glanced at him, her eyes narrowing a little bit.

"Tuney was very hurt about not being a witch like me. She got upset about it and called me a freak. She doesn't like Sev very much because he's a wizard and he taunts her for being plain and boring," Lily said quietly.

"She called you a freak, Lily. Of course I taunt her. I defend my friends," Severus inserted into the conversation, glaring sideways at her.

"It's good to stick up for your friends," Hermione nodded, smiling slowly, "But you shouldn't be mean to her for something she can't help. She's obviously jealous that she's not special when Lily is. It would be hard, I think, to have a magical sibling who gets to go away to a special magic school."

"She always thought we'd be the best of friends forever," Lily nodded, "She thought we got to them same high school and that we'd be together forever. When my letter came she was heartbroken."

Hermione nodded sadly, "I don't have any siblings, but I can't imagine what it would be like to have a sibling who was magical whilst being a muggle."

"She hurt my feelings when she called me a freak," Lily bit her lip, looking away, "But when I heard her crying in her room after I got my letter I knew it was because she just wanted to be magical too."

"Doesn't give her the right to be a bitch," Snape drawled, his nose still stuck in his book.

"Just because you don't like the horrid things she said to you doesn't mean you can be mean to her Sev," Lily scolded him, "She's still my sister."

Snape looked over at her slowly, his expression going blank in the face of Lily's sharp words. The boys across the compartment were too caught up in their discussion of Quidditch to be paying any attention to the spat between friends.

"What about you, Sev?" Hermione asked him, "Do you have siblings?"

"No," he answered, "And good thing too."

Hermione frowned and glanced at Lily, whose eyes had turned slightly pitying again.

"You never wanted siblings?" Hermione asked him quietly.

"I would hate for anyone else, especially a sibling, to have to put up with my father the way I do," Severus answered tightly, sliding down a little more in his seat.

Hermione nodded slowly, choosing not to ask him anymore about it when it obviously made him uncomfortable. The rest of the train ride she quizzed the others in the compartment about their families, their hobbies, what they were good at. She was pleased when tensions didn't rise beyond the initial reaction to Hermione and Snape saying they might be in Slytherin. She did catch James eyeing the book Severus was reading with distaste, but he wisely bit his tongue, clearly not knowing enough about it from the title alone to know it was full of Dark Magic.


	11. Chapter 11: The Sorting

**A/N: Oh you're all going to be so mad at me. I've been updating across so many of my stories that I completely forgot I'd written some new chapters for this fic. Literally, it's been sitting in the file ready to be publish for like a month and I completely forgot. I hope you like it and I promise I'll be quicker with the next chapter. You're going to love it, I promise. Thanks so much for all the love you've given me on this fic. xx-Kitten**

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**Of Ticking Clocks &amp; Beating Hearts**

_By Kittenshift17_

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**Chapter 11: The Sorting**

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When they reached Hogwarts, Hermione felt again the same awe she'd felt the first time around. The lake crossing had been filled with exclamations from Lily and Severus about how wonderful the castle looked and Lily squawked when they entered the Great Hall, led by McGonagall.

"Wow," she breathed, "How do they make it do that?"

"It's bewitched," Hermione told her, "There are classrooms and dormitories and things up there but the ceiling of the Great Hall is bewitched to look like the night sky.

"Now then," McGonagall called for their attention when they reached the front of the hall. The older students were muttering and watching them, "When I call your name you will come forwards and I will put the Sorting Hat on your head. You will be sorted into your houses."

Hermione watched as their peers were slowly sorted. Because she'd appeared out of nowhere, Dumbledore had tacked her name right on the end of the list and Hermione couldn't be more pleased. The first time around at Hogwarts she'd been the first person of their year to be sorted. It was based on the age of the student, each name recorded when the witch or wizard was born and so because she hadn't been born yet in this time, she'd needed Dumbledore to add her to the list.

Being the last on the list meant she would be able to make sure that she was sorted into whichever house Snape went into.

"Sirius Black," McGonagall called, getting to the first of their gathered little group of friends. Hermione knew Sirius's birthday was in November, so he was the oldest.

Sirius swaggered forwards with a cocky grin on his face after bumping his fist against James's and clapping Remus on the shoulder.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted and the Great hall erupted into a cacophony of sound, everyone at the Slytherin table expressing their shock over not gaining a new member from the Black family. Meanwhile the Gryffindor table began to cheer and Sirius plucked the hat back off his head before strolling over towards the Gryffindor table.

Hermione watched him go with a little smile on her face.

"Severus Snape," was called next to and Hermione watched Lily squeeze Snape's hand encouragingly.

"Go on," Hermione nudged him when he didn't move.

"Slytherin Lily, you need to be in Slytherin with me," Snape muttered to the redhead as he squeezed past Hermione, the snake around his neck poking its head out of his collar and making one girl he passed squeal in fear.

He strolled up onto the raised steps and over to the stool and Hermione watched him carefully. He looked a sight better than he had now that she'd fixed his robes and his hair but it was still obvious to anyone who looked at him that he came from a poor family and had little money. His unfortunately sized nose didn't help matters, though he tried his best to hide his appearance behind his long black hair.

He sat furtively on the stool, looking worried and never taking his eyes off Lily.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting hat declared after a few minutes and the Slytherin table erupted into cheers this time, many of them still muttering about Sirius being a traitor to his own family.

Severus took the hat off and hurried over towards the Slytherin table where he sat down. He looked apprehensive. His eyes darting back towards where Hermione and Lily stood.

"Lily Evans," McGonagall called next and Lily squeezed Hermione's hand before making her way up to sit under the hat.

Hermione looked on, wondering if her presence there would in any way effect where Lily would be placed. If Lily knew the two friends she'd made on the train would both be in Slytherin, she might be similarly swayed towards that house. Hermione shook her head slowly as she recalled telling the redhead about the blood supremacy that ran rampant in Slytherin and Lily's reaction to it.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat proclaimed and Lily looked surprised but pleased as everyone cheered. She glanced at Hermione and then guiltily over at Severus before she dashed over to join Sirius at the Gryffindor table.

Severus has dropped his face into his hands and looked utterly miserable, ignoring the other first years he'd been sorted with. Hermione watched patiently as Alice Bell became a Gryffindor.

"Remus Lupin," McGonagall called next and Hermione glanced sideways at Remus. He was pale and shaking as though terrified to go forwards.

"Go on, you'll be fine," Hermione nudged him gently, "No matter where they put you, I'll still be your friend."

Remus glanced at her with wide-eyes before he scurried forwards and plonked the hat onto his head. He looked utterly adorable sitting under it, peering up at it as though fearing it would tell him he didn't belong at Hogwarts, that there was no place for monsters here.

"He looks terrified," James chuckled.

"He's just nervous I think," Hermione whispered, "I don't think he had any friends before coming to Hogwarts."

James nodded in agreement as the hat shouted 'Gryffindor' and sent him scuttling over towards Sirius and Lily, who were both cheering loudly, "He's got us now."

Hermione nodded in agreement, finding it entirely too easy to talk to James when he looked so much like Harry.

"James Potter," McGonagall called next and James threw Hermione a lopsided grin before strolling forwards. Hermione could see he was confident about being placed in Gryffindor with his friends. And with good reason, it seemed because moments later he was sorted into Gryffindor as he ought to have been.

There were very few people left now and Hermione watched them as they evenly divided between the houses, Hufflepuff gaining several new members and Ravenclaw scrimping a few too. Slytherin seemed to have a disproportionately small number of first years being sorted into it this year and Hermione frowned when she was the last student standing and waiting to be sorted. There had been no first year girls sorted into Slytherin yet. Not one. There were seven boys but not one girl.

"Hermione Granger-Lyall," McGonagall called, inviting Hermione up the steps with a kind smile at her for being the last student to be sorted. Hermione glanced past the Transfiguration teacher to meet Dumbledore's gaze. He gave her a small, knowing smile, his blue eyes twinkling behind his spectacles.

'_You are not a first year,'_ the hat whispered into her head, '_What have we here. Ah. You're the one Dumbledore warned me about. You still belong in Gryffindor, you know?'_

'_**I need to be in Slytherin please. I want you to put me in Slytherin or everything I have sacrificed is for nothing.'**_

The hat remained silent for a long time. Too long. People began to mutter as Hermione sat there arguing with the hat. It seemed determined to put her in Gryffindor or even Ravenclaw, insisting that she would be better off in those houses.

"Listen you bloody hat," Hermione whispered glaring up at the hat from beneath it's brim, "I belong in Slytherin and that's final. Now make the announcement and put me there."

_This is why I sort people so young. You're not yet capable of realising that your choice on where I put you can be taken into account and you don't argue back. You've the brains for Ranveclaw, the courage for Gryffindor and the loyalty for Hufflepuff._

_Yes, I do. _Hermione agreed,_which is why I need to be in Slytherin. Hogwarts is about learning, growing and finding out what one's best traits are. I already know mine and I know the Slytherin traits needs some polish. You know I'm cunning enough to belong there._

Unintelligble grumbling followed as McGonagall whispered to the hat about whether or not everything was alright. Hermione glanced at the professor for a long minute, smiling tightly before the hat finally gave her what she wanted.

"SLYTHERIN," it announced and the Slytherin table cheered a final time while Hermione took the hat off and strolled over to the table. She wedged herself into next to Severus, shoving aside one of the other first year boys who'd been sorted so she could sit next to Severus.

"Told you we'd be in Slytherin together," Hermione grinned at Snape.

"Joy," he replied acerbically and Hermione smirked to herself. He was clearly furious over Lily being put in Gryffindor.

"I'm pleased you're happy that I'm here," Hermione pretended not to notice his tone, "It's such a shame about Lily, but in the end it's for the best. She'd have been picked on if she'd been sorted into Slytherin when she's muggle-born."

"I'd rather her than you," Snape retorted coldly and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's cruel of you to wish such torment on her. She won't be picked on for blood status in Gryffindor. Oh, look! Shanks!"

Hermione leaned forward as the food appeared, shocking many of the first years. Serving herself, Hermione caught the way Snape was clearly put out by her lack of response to his rudeness. She could tell it was already bugging him that being mean wasn't making her go away.

"You're the only girl in Slytherin this year," one of the other boys informed her, "I'm Rabastan, by the way. Rabastan Lestrange."

Hermione nearly dropped her fork in surprise as she looked across the table at the first year boy. He looked nothing like the man she remembered from her own time. His hair, like Sev's was a little bit longer than average, hanging to his chin in glossy brown waves. His eyes were a vivid shade of grass green and they twinkled with mischief as he offered his hand to her. Rabastan was one of the men on Hermione's list of targets to keep from falling into the Dark Lord's clutches.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Rabastan," Hermione smiled widely, shaking his hand, "I'm Hermione."

"Who are you related to? You two must be half-bloods?" he asked rather rudely.

"My parents and Eugene and Miranda Lyall," Hermione told him her cover story, "Sev what did you say your Mum's maiden name was?

She nudged him in the ribs to gets his attention. He was pouting over Lily's sorting, but also digging into the rich food on the table as though he hadn't been offered so much food in his life.

"Prince," he answered gruffly, "Eileen Prince."

"I know those family names," Rabastan nodded, "So, which subject are you looking forward to most?"

"Care of Magical Creatures and Potions," Hermione told him, "But we don't taken Care of Magical Creatures until third year. Potions will be fun though."

"You like Potions?" Severus asked her, glancing at her sideways.

"I think I will," Hermione nodded, "I like mixing things together and watching the way they interact."

Snape nodded his head slowly, looking a little less grumpy.

"What about you Rabastan? Which subject are you looking forward to?"

"Charms, I think," he answered, "Maybe Herbology. I tinker about in Mum's garden sometimes."

Hermione nodded her head before tucking into her food, finding that all this careful stepping to make sure she didn't upset the timeline too much and set off the butterfly effect was making her hungry. Being the only girl in the house meant she had to tolerate the rowdy boys from their year and Hermione found herself tucking closer into Severus's side when things got noisy.

She was used to loud, of course. She'd spent her life with Harry and Ron so she knew all about how obnoxious and noisy boys could be. She'd just managed to forget how annoying they'd been at eleven. If Snape minded the way she folded herself into his side he didn't mention it. Hermione sat close enough to him that her thigh was pressed against the length of his under the table.

He shifted uncomfortably a few times, as though he were unaccustomed to be touched and Hermione realised that he probably was. If his father beat him – which she very strongly suspected – it stood to reason that he didn't get much affection at home. No wonder he clung so tightly to Lily. She was nice to him. Hermione resolved to do the same thing.

Mid-way through dessert Hermione felt the prickle of hairs on the back of her neck before she froze as Essy decided to shift perches, slithering from her place where she had rested against Severus all afternoon – looped around his neck and warm inside his pocket and under his shirt. Hermione relaxed again when she realised it was just the snake, allowing Essy to slither right around her neck like a thick necklace of green scales.

"Oh, is that a snake?" Rabastan asked, "Is it yours?"

"She belongs to Sev," Hermione said, surprised by how warm the reptile felt as she coiled around Hermione's neck. She slithered until she was snug there, but not tight enough to strangle or even make Hermione uncomfortable. The snake settled herself under the collar of Hermione's robes, her triangular head resting atop her coils just below Hermione's ear, still close to Severus.

"I've never seen her do that," Snape muttered to her, eyeing the snake as though he thought she had betrayed him.

"I'm sure it's just because she's gotten used to me sitting next to you and decided I'm and extended part of her perch," Hermione told him.

"Is she bothering you?" he asked, watching the way Essy's tongue flicked towards Hermione's ear.

"Not at all. Her weight is comforting, actually," she said, smiling at him. He smiled slightly in return, nodding his head in understanding. He also shifted uncomfortably on the bench next to Hermione as though he didn't quite know what to do without the serpent draped over his body.

Hermione smiled when he was a little friendlier for the rest of the feast, even tolerating it when Hermione snatched up a bite of the caramel pie he'd dug out for himself, while she enjoyed her own slice of apple tart. He glanced at her with furrowed brows when she did so.

"I didn't want a whole piece," Hermione shrugged at him, smiling, "You can have some of my tart if you like."

He eyed the food on her plate for a minute before using his fork to scoop up a bite. Hermione smiled widely when he ate it, looking slightly confused by her behaviour and by the idea that she'd chosen him to befriend, in spite of how mean he'd been earlier.

When they were dismissed for the evening, the prefects called them to order. Since she was the only girl, Lucius handled wrangling them into the dungeons.

"Lyall," he nodded to her when he spotted her.

"Malfoy," Hermione nodded in return, grinning when he noticed the serpent draped around her neck.

"Right, the entrance to our common room is down in the dungeons, just here by this statue," he stopped to the left of an ugly statue of a crone, "The password to open the entrance is 'Pureblood'."

A door appeared, arched and open, allowing them entrance. Hermione filed in with Severus, Rabastan and the other boys.

"As you can see, we're situated under the Black Lake," Lucius went on, "The boy's dormitory are down those far steps over there, on the left. First years are on the first landing and the higher the year the further down the steps you go. Lyall, since you're the only girl in Slytherin for your year, you'll have a dormitory to yourself. It's down those stairs on the right."

Hermione nodded her head.

"I suggested you all turn in for the night. You'll find the uniforms and everything you need for your classes tomorrow already in your dormitory's. Breakfast ends at eight-thirty in the morning and classes start at nine. You'll be given your timetables at breakfast, so make sure you get there on time," Lucius instructed before waving them away with his hands and dismissing them.

Hermione watched him stroll over to where some of his friends were chatting by the fire.

"You get a dormitory all to yourself," Snape muttered, "That will be nice."

Hermione saw the furtive way he glanced at the other boys he'd been sorted with and so would have to share a dormitory with.

"I read that the dormitories adjust automatically to make sure everyone fits. Your dorm with be much bigger than mine, probably using up space mine might've to accommodate all of you while there's only me in mine," Hermione told him, "You won't just be crammed in like sardines."

Severus looked sceptical.

"Do you want to come with me to breakfast in the morning?" Hermione offered to him as she began unravelling Essy from about her neck and looping her around Severus.

He curled his lip at the casual way she touched him and the way she manipulated his familiar.

"Eight o'clock?" he asked finally, raising one eyebrow at her.

"I'll meet you out here at eight. Don't be late or I'll come into your dormitory to find you," Hermione smiled brightly, and Severus shot her a wide grin as though that notion amused him.

Hermione suspected he was unaccustomed to anyone other than Lily being polite to him or wanting to be his friend and that was why he was so hesitant to be nice to her.

"Goodnight then," he nodded as they crossed towards the entrances to their separate dormitories.

"Severus?" Hermione called before he could disappear.

He stopped and turned back to her with one eyebrows raised questioningly.

"I'm really glad I met you," she told him, smiling widely.

Snape looked startled, blinking at her in surprised confusion. Hermione winked at him before descending the stairs to the first floor landing and opening the door that read 'First Years'.

Inside there was a solitary four post bed. It was no bigger than a small office with just enough space for her bed, a closet where her things had been unpacked and a small mirror. That was it. Her trunk stood open at the end of the bed and Cleo was curled up on her pillow. The curtains surrounding the bed were green, the bed-spread green and white. One wall of the dormitory was made up entirely of a glass window that looked into the dark lake. Hermione caught flashes of movement as some fish swam by but she couldn't see any more than that.

Smiling even as she found herself pining for the warm, crackling fire and lofty views of Gryffindor Tower, Hermione changed quickly into her pyjamas before she climbed into bed and cuddled Cleo close. She penned a letter to Miranda and Eugene, intent on sending it to them in the morning after breakfast.

"Well, that didn't go so badly Cleo," Hermione told the cat softly as she tucked the feline into bed with her, "At least he didn't recoil and tell me he hated me. Now we'll just have to see what tomorrow brings."


	12. Chapter 12: Phase Two

**A/N: Look how I'm spoiling you! Thanks so much for all the reviews. You're all such sweethearts! Much love! xx-Kitten**

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**Of Ticking Clocks &amp; Beating Hearts**

_By Kittenshift17_

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**Chapter 12: Phase Two**

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Hermione groaned when she woke up two months into the term to find Cleo once again asleep on her chest. The cat had a habit of sleeping on her chest and she was steadily getting heavier so Hermione tended to wake up with an ache from the added weight of the creatures sleeping on top of her.

Dragging herself out of bed and over to her wardrobe, Hermione couldn't be more thrilled that it was a Saturday. She was keeping on top of her classes with appalling ease thanks to her advanced mental age, and so all of her homework was done and didn't need to be seen to. Severus had been slowly warming up to her over the first months of their tentative friendship. She, Lily and Severus sat together in every class they shared. Rabastan tended to float in and out of their company and the Marauders were already forming a fast friendship.

As she'd known was inevitable, Peter Pettigrew joined the group that James, Sirius and Remus made up. He was the fourth and only other boy in Gryffindor for first year, so they'd taken the pudgy little blonde boy under their wing. Hermione had been concerned to begin with, but there was currently nothing harmless about Peter. He was just an innocent, fat little boy who had no friends before Hogwarts and was in awe of Sirius.

He idolised James and Remus too, it was clear, but Sirius was definitely his hero. He laughed at every joke out of Sirius's mouth and he followed the other boys around like a lost puppy. Hermione resolved to keep a closer eye on him. If he ever showed even the slightest hint of betraying his friends she would step in and put a stop to it. If need be, Hermione was not above removing the man from existence.

That morning, however, Hermione had more important things to be focusing on than the comings and goings of Peter Pettigrew. Even though it was only just the beginning of November, Hermione was already plotting how best to cement friendships with the people she needed to manipulate into being better. Most importantly, she needed to find a way to bring Severus completely under her spell and lure him away from his dreadful home life.

Since arriving Hermione had letters almost every day from Miranda and Eugene. Snape, on the other hand, had received only one letter from his mother. He'd written to her at Hermione and Lily's prompting, informing her of his being sorted into Slytherin and the new friends he had made. She'd replied with a very short letter congratulating him on being in the best house. She'd wished him well with his studies, told him not to disappoint her and that was it. Nothing else.

Similarly, Sirius had received some correspondence from home. A howler. Walburga Black's shrieks had echoed throughout the castle, calling him a disgrace to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, cursing his name and calling him the shame of her flesh. Sirius had sat there stone faced while the howler shrieked at him in his mother's ear-splitting screams. Then he'd rolled his eyes and started a food fight with James.

Hermione knew that though both boys had tried to hide it, they were disheartened by the correspondence from home. And Hermione didn't fancy letting them all go home to such unhappy houses. She was already plotting to invite them all to spend Christmas with her, Miranda and Eugene. She would just have to convince them.

Severus probably wouldn't be difficult to convince. She'd heard him muttering the other day about the idea of the less time he spent at home, the better. The others might be harder. James appeared to have a very good relationship with his parents, so Hermione suspected he might like to go home to them for the holiday. Hermione was plotting, however, to have Miranda and Eugene invite Dorea and Charlus Potter to visit with them over the holidays so James could come with the rest of their friends.

Miranda didn't know Hermione's plot was quite so detailed yet, but she had agreed that the more they had for Christmas, the merrier it would be. She was already planning a Yule Ball at their estate and had sent the invitations just last night, inviting all of her friends and their families.

Skipping up into the common room, Hermione noticed that neither Severus nor Rabastan were there yet.

"Joseph, have you seen Sev or Bas?" she asked of another first year boy as he climbed the steps.

"They're still in bed," Joseph told her, pointing behind him down the steps.

"Excellent!" Hermione grinned, "I'm going to jump on them! Oh, and this is for you!"

She gave him the invitation to the Yule Ball that Miranda had sent for Joseph Urqart and his family.

"Thanks Hermione," Joseph said, smiling as he tried to read the invitation with bleary eyes.

"Mum sent one to your parents too," Hermione told him, ruffling his sandy hair as she went by him and hurried down the steps to the boy's dormitory.

"Morning Hermione," Cornelius Shafiq greeted her when he spotted her. He was in the process of pulling on his jumper.

"Hi Neil," Hermione said brightly, "This is for you."

She gave him an invitation too. She'd bonded rather well with all of the Slytherin boys in her year given that she was the only girl. Hermione got the feeling all of them thought of her as theirs to protect because she was all alone. When some Ravenclaws had said something unkind about her hair a few weeks ago Cornelius and Joseph had slipped her a laxative potion in her tea.

Of course, then Sirius, James, Remus and Peter had found out and they'd taken it upon themselves to transfigure the poor girl's hair into something resembling a poodle that had been struck by lightning. While Hermione was grateful she had such loyal friends in both houses, she'd felt bad for the girl.

"Oh, what is it?" Neil said, taking it and smiling at her, revealing his buck teeth.

"It's an invitation. My parents are hosting a Yule Ball this Christmas. Your family have been invited too, but that one invites you and the rest of my friends to all come and stay with us over the holidays. I've got one for the others boys too and I just caught Joe upstairs with his."

"Wicked," Cornelius grinned at her, "Thanks Hermione. I'll have to check with my folks, but at the very least I imagine they'll attend the ball."

"I know it's weeks away but I wanted to get in early and make sure everyone knew it was happening so no one goes planning anything else. I'll understand if you can't make it, but I hope you can," Hermione told him, smiling widely.

"Your parents don't mind having so many of us around? I assumed you've invited all us boys as well as the Gryffindors?" Neil asked.

"I have," Hermione grinned, "They're thrilled I've made so many new friends. It will be a full house if everyone can make it, but I doubt everyone will be able to. Most people like to spend Christmas with family. Since I'm pretty much all my parents have, they're more than willing to have everyone over."

"I'll owl my Mum and let you know, alright?" Neil smiled at her.

Hermione nodded her head, handing the other invitations to the other boys in the dormitory as well. Most of them were still in bed on the chilly November morning but Hermione ducked her head through the curtains around their beds just the same. Henry Parkinson made a face at the sight of her so early when she prodded his cheek and then stuck the invitation under his nose on his pillow. Ivan Mulciber growled at her unintelligibly and swatted at her like she was an annoying gnat buzzing by his ear before tossing the invitation – unread – to his bedside table and sticking his pillow over his head. Tiberius Bulstrode was still snoring, so Hermione tucked the invitation under his cheek on his pillow before she strolled over to Sev's bed. Rabastan was still sound asleep, his curtains open and his torso hanging half out of the linens, his head hanging over the side of the mattress.

Hermione laughed at the sight of him before she made her way to Severus's bed. He had his curtains open too, his head buried beneath his pillow and the covers pulled high. Hermione didn't know if he was asleep or not. Setting the stack of invitations on his bedside table, Hermione pried the covers open to the sound of his groan and climbed into the bed next to him. She stretched out on her stomach next to him in the narrow four-post bed and burrowed under his pillow.

He groaned at her again, his eyes snapping open to glare at the intrusion when Hermione laid close enough to him for the tips of their noses to touch.

"One day you're going to climb into bed with me," Sev told her, his voice gravelly with sleep but somehow still sharp with annoyance, "And I'll be naked. What are you going to do then?"

Hermione smiled at him.

"Perve on you," she answered, "Did you sleep well?"

"I was sleeping like a log. Until you let all that cold air in and cramped up my space," he grumbled.

Hermione smiled widely at him. She didn't know what it was about being in her De-Aged body whilst retaining her aged mental status, but she enjoyed unsettling her friends. She also had done away with concerns like personal boundaries. Sirius was partially responsible. He tended to throw his arm around her shoulders whenever he saw her. Not just to her either. Lily, Alice, Marlene and Molly all received the same treatment. He flirted mercilessly with all of them despite their young age and he was touchy-feely.

Hermione had taken to being touchy with Severus.

At first he'd been unnerved by her closeness but Hermione had watched the idea of enjoying her company grow on him. He never admitted it, of course. He was always being grouchy about something, brooding and moody even when he was outwitting Peter or Rabastan. He grumbled constantly about her crowding him and being in his elbow room. Hermione, however had done exactly what the adult version of Severus Snape she'd known in her time had told her to do. She belligerently ignored every insult he threw at her and kept right on being his friend.

He'd been right too. His tongue was almost as sharp at eleven as it had been when he was her teacher. The others all thought she was a little bit bonkers for tolerating him. Even Lily bore the brunt of Severus's bad moods with less patience than Hermione did. She'd gotten snippy with him last week when Severus had snapped at the redhead for accidentally spilling an ink pot on his homework and though she had apologised he'd proceeded to call her clumsy sycophant who spent too much time trying to be liked by the Marauders to pay attention to her surroundings.

Lily had been in a strop with him over it though Hermione had noticed it was a little bit true. Lily was a delightful girl, in her way, but the saint she'd been hailed as in Hermione's time was not entirely accurate. Oh, she was smart. Her thirst for knowledge rivalled Hermione's. As did Snape's. But she was also something of a suck-up to the teachers and she tended to gravitate around the Marauders. They weren't calling themselves that yet, of course, but already they were building a reputation for being the popular troublemakers Hermione had known them to be.

Lily tended to giggle when they were around. Hermione didn't think it was because she had a crush on any of them, though James's interest in Lily was making itself well-known already. It was simply that they were popular and funny and Lily wanted to be part of that crowd. Hermione had even caught the occasional huff of annoyance Lily Evans tended to give when Severus arrived. He was most certainly not well liked. Oh he got along with the other Slytherin boys well enough, but he was too acerbic and nasty at times to be well-liked.

He would spew venom over anyone who ticked him off, just as he had in Hermione's time, and he had no patience for the pandering Lily was engaging in. He often muttered darkly to Hermione about it, convinced that Lily had a crush on Sirius. He'd also noticed James's interest in Lily and that had put him in a foul mood too. Whenever he snapped at the others, everyone tended to withdraw from him a little, leaving him be until he was calm again.

Everyone except Hermione.

She could already tell she'd been driving him spare. She enjoyed it. It was entirely too much fun to watch him fly off the handle, trying to slice her open with his sharp words. When she returned the sentiments with witticism of her own or when she simply plied him with even more friendship, he would wear a thunderstruck expression for hours. Much to Hermione's amusement, he very rarely apologised for what he said. Mostly because he tended not to sugar coat the truth and wasn't prone to lying. He said what he thought and he wasn't repentant about it, even if it hurt someone's feelings.

That she didn't allow it to hurt her feelings bugged him to no end, Hermione knew.

"I dreamed about riding a centaur through a field of poppies last night," Hermione told him, unrepentant about stealing his bedspace.

"That sounds awful," he informed her, looking at her across the bed from beneath the pillow. He made no move to get up or to push her out of bed. Hermione suspected that sometimes he rather liked her persistent friendship and her dogged determination to be with him, whether he liked it or not.

"What did you dream about?" Hermione asked him.

"Potter falling into a boiling cauldron while Black ran around shrieking dramatically," he drawled in response. He said such things a lot. Hermione didn't think they were true. She suspected Severus Snape had nightmares about the things he endured at home and that he lied to keep his secrets to himself.

"How terrible," Hermione replied, "I don't imagine James would fit into a cauldron very well."

"He was all bent up, bones broken, blood everywhere," Severus informed her, smirking cruelly.

"You're terrible," Hermione told him though she laughed, "You're just put out because you think he fancies Lily."

"He does fancy her. I've seen him watching her. He waits until he has her attention before he makes those stupid jokes. And she giggles every time," Severus grumbled.

"Some of them are funny," Hermione allowed, smiling in return.

"Next you'll tell me you've got a crush on Potter as well," he rolled his eyes, sounding disgusted.

"Nope. Not me. I'm not much interested in loud mouthed boys who goof off all the time. Now say, Remus… him I might be persuaded to fancy," Hermione grinned, enjoying the way Severus narrowed his eyes on her.

He would never admit to it, but he guarded her friendship jealously. He sat with her in every single class. He sat with her at meals and he walked with her in the halls. Hermione knew it was because unlike Lily or any of the other friends they'd made, she never ditched him. She never looked at him in annoyance when he arrived – as Lily occasionally did. Hermione suspected that Marlene, Alice and Molly didn't like him very much. They thought he was mean. No one had teased him for his shabby clothes or his nose yet, though Marlene made had a few jabs about his hair.

Hermione had cured the greasiness and fixed the length after he'd butchered it, but it was still longer than most boys wore their hair. Not that Severus seemed to care considering he never cut it. It grew fast too. When she'd seen him on the train it had hung a little past his shoulders. Two months later it had grown at least three inches. He only ever tied it up in Potions too, so it was always stringy and messy and made him look a bit scruffy.

The other girls thought he was an oddball. Too smart for his own good. Too interested in the Dark Arts. Too prone to saying things that unnerved others. Too shabby looking and poor. They didn't have to say it, but Hermione sensed that's what they thought. And Hermione suspected that to fit in, Lily was beginning to share their beliefs. She was still nice to him. She stuck up for him when the others said unkind things. But Hermione could tell she didn't like having to. Especially for things he could fix.

Hermione, on the other hand, endeavoured to be his friend come rain, hail or sunshine. If he was in a fiery mood and snapped at her, Hermione put up with it, sparred verbally with him until he was truly incensed or until she could say something to make him forget his mood and that was that. She invaded his space, ate food off his plate, argued with him like they were bitter enemies before hugging him like he was her one true love. And though he didn't admit it or probably like to think it, he knew her friendship was genuine and that she wasn't ever going anywhere.

For a boy who'd had no friends for so long, he was intent on keeping those he made. She and Lily had been his first friends and he clung to them desperately. Not that Hermione minded. She enjoyed his company more and more.

"Remus? But he's so…" he paused curling his lip in distaste as he searched for the right word, "Sickly."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"What? He gets sick twice and suddenly you think him sickly?" Hermione asked him, "It's hardly his fault he got the flu."

Hermione knew it wasn't the flu. It was his curse. He grew pallid and looked unwell every full moon. Hermione always made sure to be especially kind to him, sneaking him the chocolate he so adored whenever he was under the weather. He'd looked at her oddly the first time she'd done it, but he was slowly coming to accept that she could tell when he felt like rubbish. Hermione was hoping that eventually he might own up to being a werewolf to her. If he didn't by the end of the year, Hermione planned to confront him about it, letting him know that she knew. That she didn't mind at all. That she still enjoyed his company.

In all honesty she didn't think she fancied any of them. They were too young and immature at the moment. Hermione supposed it didn't bode well for her. It might very well come to it that she would need to use her feminine wiles to keep Severus and her other charges from Voldemort's clutches. How she was going to do that when she currently thought of them as precious little kids, she didn't know. They would grow out of it though, and being back in her smaller body and spending time with them was effecting her mental age too.

Hermione could feel it. Every now and then she felt much older than everyone else – much more world weary – but other times their enthusiasm and vivacious youth was infectious and she found herself feeling like a kid all over again.

"He gets the flu a lot," Severus grumped and Hermione knew he was jealous over the idea that she could fancy Remus.

"Not that much," Hermione argued, "Besides, you were the one accusing me of fancying James. You can't get upset with me for correcting you on the type of boy I might one day fancy."

"You anticipate fancying Lupin?" he sneered, looking disgusted.

"I didn't say I would fancy him specifically. I said someone like him. Someone smart and not prone to showing off every spare minute. Someone I can laugh with, without having to worry every other girl in the school is going to steal him," Hermione grinned at him, enjoying the way she was listing traits both Remus and Severus possessed. She wondered if he would click that she could fancy him too. She didn't yet, though she enjoyed him immensely. Also, knowing what a good kisser he would one day grow to be was definitely a point in his favour.

"Why are you in my bed?" he asked, obviously thinking himself into a snit.

"I have something for you," Hermione smiled at him, "And I missed you. And you're warm."

She snuggled closer to him until their thighs were pressed together, their noses still touching and they laid side-by-side.

"What have you got for me?" he asked curiously, forgetting his bad mood at being told she'd missed him in the eight hours since she'd bid him goodnight.

"An invitation to come and stay with me and my family over the Christmas holidays," Hermione told him, "My parents are throwing a Yule Ball on Christmas Eve, but I'm allowed to have friends stay for the entire break. Will you come?"

Severus looked surprised by the offer.

"You want me to come to your house? To meet your parents?" he asked.

"Of course I do. They've read all about you in my letters and they know you're my best friend. They want to meet you. Please say you'll come? I know you don't want to go home to your place," Hermione wheedled, staring at him across the mattress.

"Who else is going?" he hedged, and Hermione could tell he wanted to come, he just didn't want to seem too eager or too desperate.

"Mum and Dad said I could invite all of my friends for the whole holiday, though I don't imagine everyone will be allowed to come. I only got the invitations from Mum last night. They're on your nightstand," Hermione told him.

"You invited everyone? Even Potter and Black?" he asked, looked slightly crestfallen when he realised he wasn't so special after all.

"They're our friends, so don't look so disappointed," Hermione told him, "Besides, I can't very well exclude them. Sirius's parents are awful if those howlers he's been getting are anything to go by. And I think Remus's Dad might be a bit like yours…"

Severus's face darkened at the mention of his father, the loathing he felt for the man evident in his eyes.

"And anyway," Hermione went on in a whisper, "I invited everyone else because they're our friends and it would be impolite not to. I invited you, you great big blanket-hog, because I want you to be there. Please say you'll come? Even if everyone else says no? Please spend Christmas with me, Sev?"

Hermione watched his expression change as he listened to her whispered request, his dark eyes widening slightly to learn that she would beg him to come with her. That she desperately wanted to spend the holiday with him.

"Even if no one else came, you'd want me to come?" he asked, also whispering, his dark eyes searching what little of her expression he could see while they both had their heads stuck under his pillow. It smelled like him. Like peppermint.

Hermione smiled widely at him.

"Of course I would Sev," she told him, "You're my favourite person in existence."

And it wasn't even a lie. Her friends and loved ones didn't exist yet and the amount of time she'd spent with him since she'd arrived back here had endeared him to her. She actually did enjoy his company.

He looked slightly uncomfortable, though also pleased.

"What's going on here?" Rabastan's voice suddenly interrupted the moment and Hermione blinked at the harsh light when he lifted the pillow that covered both of their faces. Dressed in his pyjamas, Rabastan LeStrange grinned at the pair of them even as he peeled the covers back on Sev's bed and climbed in beside Hermione, sandwiching her between him and Severus.

"Must you, Bass?" Severus grumbled, trying to pull his pillow back over his head even as Hermione was forced to roll until she laid on her side instead of her tummy, pressing herself intimately against Sev while Rabastan wrapped himself around her back.

"You can't just exclude me when you snuggle," Bass protested, looping his arm over Hermione's waist playfully and poking Sev's side to tickle him.

"If I wanted to snuggle with you, I'd have invited you," Severus retorted, rolling as well until he was on his side and facing towards Hermione.

Hermione burrowed her face into his chest happily, wrapping her arms around him and pressing herself against the full length of his body. She soaked up his warmth gratefully. The worst part of her assignment thus far – other than leaving her family, friends and all she knew behind – had been the fact that it was always so cold and damp in the dungeons. Living there meant she almost always felt cold. She was always burrowing into her new friends to keep warm and Severus was her favourite. She enjoyed the way he tended to grit his teeth and bear it as though he didn't enjoy it.

Maybe he didn't. Hermione didn't much care. He kept her warm and she liked being warm. She also liked the peppermint scent that always lingered on his skin.

"What are you two talking about anyway?" Rabastan asked them curiously.

"I'm inviting everyone to my place for the Christmas holidays," Hermione told him, "My parents are holding a Yule Ball at our house. But I'm allowed to have friends over for the entire break, if you're all allowed to join me."

"Sounds like fun," Rabastan said, "I won't be able to come though. My folks are big on family Christmas. But I imagine we'll be at the ball."

"You don't even want to ask them if you'll be allowed to come to stay?" Hermione asked him, her voice slightly muffled by Severus's collarbone.

"They'll say no," Rabastan shrugged, "My older brother, Rodolphus, just got engaged to Bellatrix Black. I'm expected home for Christmas break to congratulate them and get on with all the posturing and bullshit that comes with a pureblood marriage."

"Oh," Hermione sighed, "Well, I hope you can come to the ball."

"It's a social event of the wizarding world," Rabastan replied dryly, "My mother wouldn't let us miss it. Especially not when she can spend the entire night bragging about Rodolphus's impending doom… erm, I mean nuptials."

Severus snorted, "Is he not willing to get married?"

"Not exactly," Rabastan shrugged, "He's ten years older than me, so he's almost twenty-two. But he's going to be marrying Bellatrix Black. She might be beautiful, but the bitch is bonkers. Bat-shit crazy. Rodolphus is terrified she'll slit his throat in his sleep."

Hermione smirked against Severus's chest, recalling Bellatrix Lestrange's mental instability. The niggling reminder that if she didn't interfere, Rabastan would one day go with Bellatrix and his older brother to torture Frank and Alice Longbottom into madness bothered Hermione and she resolved to make Rabastan and Alice better friends in the hopes of preventing it.


	13. Chapter 13: Delivering Invitations

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. You're all so sweet and I'm so pleased so many of you have been enjoying this fic. I did fall off the band wagon for a little while there when I fell out of love with the Marauders for a bit, but I'm right back on that ship and there are a number of new chapters coming your way for this one. Those of you reading "Embracing the Madness" will also be pleased to know I've been editing the chapters for that and will have a new chapter for you on it really soon. YAY! I hope you love the new chapter here. I was going to jump right into the holidays at Hermione's place and kind of fast forward through the early years, but it's way too much fun to write their friendships as they develop. Now, fair warning, we see a change in Hermione in this chapter. Just so you know. I hope you love it. I couldn't stop giggling while I wrote this chapter. **

**Much love! xx-Kitten.**

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**Of Ticking Clocks and Beating Hearts**

_By Kittenshift17_

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**Chapter 13: Delivering Invitations**

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Hermione ran on her toes as she raced across the Great Hall and over to the Gryffindor table. She could see James, Sirius and Remus already on their way to get some breakfast for the morning and she meant to ambush them before they could sit down. She had her wad of invitations clutched in her fist and she could still hear Severus grumbling about the idea of having to follow her over to the Gryffindor table where she could see Lily was already sitting with the other Gryffindor girls.

Remus heard her coming long before she reached them, his canine hearing able to pick up the whisper of her feet over the cold stones of the floor and he spun towards her just in time for Hermione to launch herself at him. Instinctively his hands came up to catch her when Hermione leapt right at the wide-eyed werewolf.

"Hermione?" he exclaimed, staggering slightly on impact when Hermione crashed right into him, latching her arms around his neck.

"Good morning!" she crowed cheerfully, loud enough for all of her Gryffindor friends to hear her.

It was one of Remus's good weeks in the middle of the lunar cycle, so crashing into him didn't hurt him. Hermione breathed in his personal scent noticing that as he'd done as an adult, he smelled like loam, pine and werewolf. She couldn't rightly describe the scent of 'werewolf' but it was something along the lines of a doggy time of smell, only wilder somehow.

The poor werewolf never seemed to know quite what to do when she instigated intimate, yet casual touches between them. He had clearly been starved for human contact most of his young life and being touched unnerved him. Hermione knew it unnerved him, but she enjoyed hugging him too much to stop. It was just too much fun and her personal space barrier had all but dissolved. At any given moment she could be found leaning on, hanging off or crawling over any number of her friends. She didn't know why she did it, if she was being honest, but there was something about being flung into the past, De-Aged, and immersed in a life with people who were the parents, godfathers and teachers of her original friends that made her crave physical contact and company.

That, and so many of them weren't accustomed to being touched very much. Remus, as a werewolf with parents who feared him and loathed his condition, had never had anyone so willing to hug him, touch him or comb their fingers through his hair. Sirius was in the same boat. His mother tended to scream at him and she didn't doubt that the woman slapped, hit, kicked and beat him when she got angry enough.

James had clearly been doted on and loved by his parents, but Hermione had trouble resisting the urge to hug and touch him too when he reminded her so very much of Harry both in personality and appearance. Many of her other new friends were in the same boat as Remus and Sirius.

Severus wasn't used to being touched so much. He was only used to being beaten by his father. Rabastan was a wild card, but he rarely complained if she sat in his lap or played with her hair. Lily and the other girls were more tolerant of being touched, but Hermione had found with them that hugs and things were common and even easy. She'd made a number of new friends by instigating all kinds of things to make their lives easier or more fun. She would show them a new charm she'd learned for fixing hair or some potion or salve for their skin. They'd even painted their nails together last week.

More than anyone though, Hermione enjoyed climbing all over Severus, burrowing into him when it would most annoy him. And she adored being affectionate with Remus. He never seemed to quite know what to do about it when she crawled into his lap or hung from his neck. He just kind of stood there awkwardly, unaccustomed to the idea that he ought to hug her back and too polite to shove her off him the way Severus did when he got stroppy with her.

"Well aren't you exuberant this morning?" Sirius laughed while Remus struggled with himself over how to react to being so enthusiastically greeted and so warmly hugged.

"And I haven't even had my breakfast yet," Hermione commented, hanging down Remus's front like a sloth from a branch.

De-Aged back to being twelve years old, she was extremely short once again, while Remus seemed to have hit his twelve-year-old growth spurt. Hermione would swear he'd shot up almost a foot since they'd begun the term. He was easily approaching five feet already and as such her feet dangled off the ground while she hugged him. Sometimes, when she really wanted to insist on contact she would wrap her legs around his narrow waist, but she thought she better not whilst in the Great Hall at breakfast time. She might get in trouble.

"No one let her have coffee. She'll explode with perkiness," Severus's voice came from behind her, already grumpy again even though she and Bass had managed to cheer him up in bed that morning. Rabastan followed after Severus, wandering over to the Gryffindor table near Lily. Both boys plonked themselves down and began digging into the food already on the table.

The very sight warmed Hermione even more when the girls didn't looked alarmed or put out. Her insistence on being friends with people, no matter the house they were in had initiated a lot of inter-house unity and it wasn't uncommon to find people from all four houses sitting together or walking together in the corridors.

"What have you got there, Hermione?" James wanted to know, tipping to one side to try and read the invitations she clutched upside-down.

"A surprise," Hermione crowed delightedly, wriggling against Remus and waiting for him to put his arms around her. Currently he was trying to maintain his balance and reach the table even though she hung from his neck like an oversized, wriggly necklace.

"What is it? Something good?" Sirius asked, looking intrigued, "Tell me it's the answers to the quiz Slughorn hinted at in Potions yesterday?"

"It's not the answers," Hermione told him.

"Are you going to let me go this morning?" Remus wanted to know when he stopped in front of the table, unsure how to go about sitting on the bench he'd have to climb over when she was still clinging to him.

"I haven't decided yet," Hermione replied, "You're warm."

She burrowed her nose into the side of his neck and breathed him in even deeper.

"Your nose is cold," he complained.

"See? Cold. I told you. But you're warm. I could stay here until I'm warm."

"Sirius is probably warmer than I am, Hermione," Remus tried to argue patiently.

"You think so?" Hermione asked sceptically, talking to his clavicle because she was hugging him so tightly.

"Yes, he only got out of bed a few minutes ago. I've been awake more than an hour. He's still got that bedtime warmth clinging to him," Remus assured her.

"Are you just saying that because you don't want me to cuddle you anymore, Remus?" Hermione asked him suspiciously, having entirely too much fun watching him trying to be polite.

"Of course not," Remus denied quickly, always on the lookout for hurting anyone's feelings.

Severus snorted.

"Yes, he is," Severus informed her, "You're being a pest again, Hermione. Get off him and let him get some breakfast before we all die of boredom watching him try not to hurt your feelings."

"Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed again," Rabastan piped up, nudging Severus, who looked even more annoyed.

"Remus, do you think Severus is being a grump because he needs a big cuddle too?" Hermione asked, looking into Remus's eyes and smiling widely.

"I'm sure he does," Remus nodded, clearly willing to take any opportunity to pry her off him.

"I don't know," Hermione mused, "I feel like you're just saying that because you want to get rid of me, Remus."

"No one would want to get rid of you, Hermione," Sirius winked at her over Remus's shoulder.

"Prove it," Hermione demanded of Remus, having entirely too much fun watching the poor boy try to figure out how to get her out of his personal space without hurting her feelings.

"How am I supposed to prove that I don't want to get rid of you?" he asked, baffled.

"Just toss her off you, Lupin," Severus grunted, "She's perky enough today that she'll bounce right back and probably climb into Potter's lap the minute she's up."

"Ignore Severus," Hermione told Remus, "He's being a sour pus because I made him stop cuddling me and get out of bed to come to breakfast."

"I'm not above hexing you, Hermione," Severus warned from behind her, never liking to admit that she crawled into bed with him all the time.

"I'll hex you right back, Sev," Hermione retorted, "But Remus, you can prove you don't want to let me go by squeezing me as tight as you can and then I might be persuaded to release you."

"You're the strangest witch I know," James informed her, chuckling at her bargaining tactics and looking amused by her apparent neediness, "Did you know that?"

"Hush, Jamesy, you're next," Hermione warned the black haired boy who looked so much like Harry.

"Blimey," James chuckled.

"I don't want to squeeze you, Hermione. What if I hurt you?" Remus protested.

"Do it, or I'm going to hang from you neck all day long," Hermione blackmailed him immediately.

"You're a real piece of work sometimes, did you know that?" Remus asked her before wrapping his arms around her.

He squeezed quite gently and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You can do better than that," she chided him, "How will you ever even warm me up and make me feel loved if you squeeze more gently than you would to hold a butterfly?"

Remus growled very softly before tightening his grip. Hermione returned the fierce hug, squeezing him as tight as she could and pushing him to return the favour. When he crushed her to himself, pressing her tightly to his chest while he arms crushed her so close that her ribs aches and her back cracked, Hermione smiled.

"Yay!" she said before releasing him and dropping to the floor.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked gruffly, eyeing her like she was mental.

"No," Hermione smiled, "I like being cuddled tight. Your cuddles are wonderful."

Remus shook his head at her slowly, clearly doubting her sanity even as he took his seat next to Sirius.

"Are you going to tell us what you've got now?" James asked and Hermione bounded over to where he was sitting, wrapping herself around his back and propping her chin on his right shoulder.

"But I haven't said good morning to everyone yet, Jamesy," Hermione argued with him, stealing a rasher of bacon off his plate and munching on it over his shoulder.

"Are you sure you were put in the right house?" Severus growled, "You're acting like a bloody Hufflepuff."

Hermione blew a raspberry at him as she released James and moved on to Sirius.

"Don't even think about…" Sirius began when Hermione tucked her invitations under her arm before she dug her fingers into his black hair, "Blast it all, woman, you know I don't like having my hair touched!"

"Don't lie, Sirius," Hermione laughed, combing her fingers through the silky black locks and leaning against his back, "We both know that you secretly adore it when I touch you."

"Oh, of course. You've figured out my secret, I protest so much because I actually like having my hard work undone by your villainous hands every bloody day," he replied sarcastically and though she couldn't see his face, Hermione could tell he was rolling his eyes.

"Methinks he doth protest too much," Hermione retorted, quoting even as she ruffled her fingers through the inky black wings of his hair, "Now stop being grumpy and read this, you big sook!"

Hermione scolded him when she wrapped herself around his back the same way she'd done to James before burrowing her nose into his neck and breathing in his scent. He always smelt of diesel and smoke, Hermione noticed as she breathed him in. She dug his invitation out of the pile and presented it to him before snatching a bite of his sausage right off his fork, directing his hand clutching the utensil into her own mouth.

"What is it?" James wanted to know, as curious as ever and reaching for his own invitations when Hermione dug it out of the pile she clutched.

Hermione passed James's to him even as she moved on to Peter. She wasn't as affectionate with Peter as she was with the others, but if she was being honest, the pudgy little blonde boy was currently harmless and actually quite sweet. Hermione carded her fingers through his thick blonde hair and gave him an invitation as well before she hopped right over the table to where Lily, Alice, Molly and Marlene were sitting.

"Good morning Lily," Hermione greeted her friend, wrapping her arms around the red-head from behind and pecking her on the cheek in greeting.

"Having fun, Hermione?" Lily asked, absentmindedly reaching up to pat her cheek affectionately.

"Loads," Hermione told her, "This is for you. Promise me you'll come, alright?"

She gave the witch her invitation before tucking a lock of Lily's hair behind her ear. She continued on with the rest of the girls, passing out invitations to Alice even as she stopped to muss the dark-hair witch's bobbed locks. Molly preened with delight when Hermione paused in her greeting of everyone else to plait her long blonde hair for the girl. Marlene was the most stand-offish of the group, but even she got a cuddle from behind and a ruffle of her brown hair as she was handed her invitation.

"This is why you're so excited?" Remus asked when Hermione hopped right back over the table again and stopped behind him.

She present his invitation to him even as she kissed the top of his head affectionately, her arms wrapped around him.

"Mhmm," Hermione hummed, "Say you'll all come? Pretty please? My Mum and Dad are so excited for the ball and for meeting all my friends."

"They're going to be alright with having pretty much the entire first year class all staying at your place all break?" James asked sceptically.

"Well, I doubt everyone will be able to make it. Most people's folks want to see them at Christmas," Hermione shrugged, "But Mum keeps saying 'the more, the merrier'. We have enough room for everyone, after all."

"They're game if they're willing to take on twenty kids for the holidays," Sirius piped up.

"The love kids and they've both taken time off work especially so they'll be there while I'm home," Hermione smiled at him, "They're as excited as I am."

"They're clearly delusional," Snape muttered grumpily, "And they passed the defect along."

"Are you calling me defective, Sev?" Hermione chuckled, slanting a smirk at the dark-haired boy.

"Defective and slow, if you've got to ask," he retorted.

"Sev, that's mean!" Lily swatted at him in reprimand.

"Defective this, Sev," Hermione retorted, abandoning Remus and bounding over to where Severus was sitting.

Hermione gripped one of his shoulders tightly, jerked on his body until he was leaning back.

"Oi! Knock it off," he growled, trying to fight her off.

Hermione ignored his words when he began to curse, twisting her body around and plonking down right on his lap.

"Damn it, witch, bugger off!" Severus growled, trying to throw her back off his lap. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and shuffled across his lap.

"Now who's defective, Sev?" Hermione taunted him, clinging to him tightly and settling herself into his lap cheerfully.

"Still you," Severus retorted, "You're acting like a child."

"Says the boy throwing a tantrum because I made him get out of bed," Hermione replied in a sneer, burrowing her face into his neck and breathing him in.

She was having the time of her life. She had learned since first meeting this wonderful group of people that she wanted to savour every minute. She didn't like to waste time second-guessing happiness or something that might be fun. She spent enough time worrying about how to best convince those destined to be Death Eaters from walking that dark path. She spent countless hours a day debating whether or not something would have a positive or negative effect. And so far the one thing she'd found was that she had the singular ability to overcome house rivalry, blood prejudice and other discrepancies by channelling her inner Hufflepuff and being extra nice to everyone.

Literally everyone. She had befriended everyone in her year. She knew them all by name, house affiliation, and interest. She'd instigated study evenings with the Ravenclaws, encouraging them to help the Hufflepuffs. She had bridged the gap between Slytherins and Gryffindors by being so close with both.

All of the Slytherin boys in her year had no choice by to hang out with the Gryffindors because she hung out with them and she dragged them along. Lily tended to go where Hermione and Severus went, and the other girls tended to follow. As a result, the Marauders followed the girls, Rabastan followed her and Severus. The other boys too, tended to revolve around their group.

In just the short amount of time she'd been at the school, she'd managed to ensure that everyone in her year knew each other and even if they didn't much like each other, Hermione insisted they be polite to one another.

Not as difficult a task as it seemed given that Severus was the least polite of the lot of them and she managed to wrangle him when she had to. Having a six year head-start on her maturity whilst being their 'age-mates' meant she could help them overcome their little spats and silly notions by educating them. When it came from someone they believed to be their own age, they seemed to listen better than they would have were if coming from an older student or a teacher, Hermione was sure.

Professor Dumbledore had been delighted when he'd come across most of their year studying in one of the courtyards last month. Hermione had talked everyone into studying for the exam Professor McGonagall had set for them and she'd bought herself a lot of friends when they all got their grades back and did better than they'd hoped. In fact, there was now a standing study session for all first year students every Wednesday evening, usually led by Hermione, where she insisted they all work on whatever homework they had.

Not everyone attended every week, but Hermione kind of liked running it. It made her feel like she was being helpful to their overall education and it meant she was interacting with everyone. She offered advice on things they had trouble with – once again securing her reputation as a know-it-all – and it meant everyone got their homework done through the week. Since the teachers tended to hand out assignments on Mondays and Tuesdays that were to be submitted on Thursdays and Fridays, Wednesday was the perfect day for study.

Sometime a few people would skive off a week, but as it was Hermione had convinced so many of her friends and her peers to attend that usually those who might've avoided having to do their homework – like the Marauders – attended anyone because it was the place to be every Wednesday night.

Since they were all in different houses, Hermione had resorted to sometimes using the Great Hall or even empty classrooms where they could all lounge around together, help each other and otherwise interact with people outside of their own house. She actually wished she'd been able to do the same thing in her own time with Harry and Ron. It meant that people in her year that she didn't know very well and might never have had the chance to spend time with or to get to know, were suddenly people she called friend. The entire idea resulted in everyone knowing each other and it meant there was very rarely anyone missing out on getting their homework completed if they didn't understand something. No one ever had to walk into a classroom or the Great Hall and worry about sitting alone or having to sit with someone by themselves.

She knew the teachers were always baffled when they would walk into class and find Hermione sitting with Lily or find Remus sitting by Rabastan. Sirius and James were almost inseperable, but every now and then even they could be split to sit with Ivan or Cornelius or even Joseph. Boys sat with girls, Slytherins sat with Gryffindors and the teachers looked like the world had gone topsy-turvy. Hermione loved watching Professor McGonagall's face twist in confusion when Sirius and Rabastan sat together, both of them causing mischief. More Minerva never seemed to know who to blame or who to take house points from.

"This isn't a tantrum," Sev argued with her, still trying to wrestle her off his lap, "You've never seen me throw a tantrum."

"If you try to tell me some sort of bollocks about how men don't throw tantrums, I'm going to pour juice on you," Hermione warned him, making Lily laugh with her threat.

"If you don't get off me, I'm going to upend my plate right onto your lap," he retorted.

"Food fight?" Sirius piped up, liking the sound of that and always ready to break the rules and instigate food fights.

"NO!" Molly shouted, lunging for Sirius when he made to pick up a nearby savoury muffin like he might throw it at someone.

"See what you've done?" Severus sneered, "Now you're getting everyone in trouble and starting mischief again."

"Me starting mischief?" Hermine scoffed, "I'm the picture of innocence. All I did was invite all my friends to stay with me for the holidays! How is it my fault that Sirius is always wanting to throw food at people?"

"You encourage them with your brattiness," he retorted.

"Do you imagine that I'm above the idea of smearing jam on your eyelids while you're asleep?" Hermione asked him, leaning back in his lap to glare at him threateningly.

"I imagine that, if you try, I'm going to empty a jar of beetle eyes into your socks," Severus retorted, glaring at her, "Now get off me."

"You called me defective," Hermione protested.

"You are defective," he insisted, "You can't even fathom the idea that the entire school might be a few too many people to invite over for the holidays."

"Don't be upset that I'm liked, Sev," Hermione needled him, "It's not like I didn't invite you already. I can't not invite everyone. They'd be hurt."

"I'm not seeing the problem," he deadpanned in return.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. She could tell that he was actually annoyed that she'd invited everyone. That he'd have preferred to come to her place for the holidays with just the two of them and Lily. He tended to despise everyone else, though he tolerated and even rather liked Rabastan.

"Are you sure your parents won't mind having us, Hermione?" James asked, "I was going to have the boys over to my place for Christmas, but if your folks are happy to have us all, that could be more fun."

"Mum is owling everyone's parents about it today too. And she's sent out invites for the Yule Ball they're intending to throw this year. Even if not everyone can stay for the holidays, you can still come for the ball. Bass has a family affair to attend for Christmas, but he'll be at the Ball."

"It sucks that you'll miss out on the fun of staying over, Bass," Alice offered kindly to the brown-haired boy.

"I'd rather go to Hermione's, to be honest," Bass grumbled, "If I go home I'm going to have to listen to my mother prattling on about my brother's engagement and her stupid hints about needing to arrange my bloody wedding before too long."

"You're twelve," Lily said, her eyes widening, "Why would they talk about you getting married?"

Rabastan glanced at her as though she were thick before recalling that she was a muggleborn and didn't understand how pureblood matches worked.

"I'm a pureblood with a reputation to uphold," he shrugged his shoulders, "It's the done thing to arrange marriages young. Merlin, I wouldn't be surprised if they've already promised me to someone."

"What? Really?" Lily asked, looking alarmed by the idea.

"Purebloods are all interralted, Evans," Sirius rolled his eyes when Rabastan began to look frustrated at her shock, "Our parents arrange our weddings to make sure we don't go marrying the wrong sort or marrying someone too closely related."

"Too closely related?" Lily made a face at the choice of words.

"In some of the pureblood families people as close as second cousins marry, Lily," Hermione muttered to the girl, "It's not really something we discuss…"

"Second cousins?" Lily asked, aghast and not heeding the warning, "What sort of person marries their cousin?"

"Second cousin," Sirius corrected, "My parents are second cousins."

Lily looked like she didn't know if she ought to be disgusted, repentant or just outright embarrassed.

"Muggleborns," Bass muttered on Hermione's far side, one of his fists clenching in annoyance. Hermione had discovered that while most purebloods in Slytherin did still value the importance of blood purity, there were some – like Rabastan – who found the inbreeding part of maintaining that purity to be unsettling and downright icky. Not that she blamed him.

Sirius himself didn't look at all put out by Lily's shock. Rabastan clearly didn't like it, however. Not that Hermione blamed either of them. She'd been horrified herself when she'd learned that the pureblood families were so closely related.

"But you… they…" Lily spluttered, clearly knowing she'd stuck her foot in her mouth.

"You see why I don't hold to their blood supremacist ideals?" Sirius smirked at her, winking lasciviously, "If you marry a pureblood from one of the older families, you're likely marrying someone inbred. Me and James are actually cousins. What is it, James, first cousins, once removed?"

"My Mum is your Great Aunt," James nodded, shrugging.

"Me and Bass are related too. What are we Bass?"

"Third cousins, twice removed, and that connection's by marriage, not blood. It's why my brother is marrying your cousin."

"Rod got stuck with Bella, eh?" Sirius smirked, "Poor bastard. That bitch is barmy."

"That's what I said," Rabastan chuckled.

There had been some awkwardness between the two of them when Hermione had insisted they spend time in the same circle given Rabastan's proclivity for blood purity and Sirius's outspoken arguments against it. Indeed, Bass had been on the receiving end of a furious letter from his father when it had been discovered they were currently friends. Sirius was on the outs with his family in a big way, though he refused to discuss it.

"But that means you're…" Lily was still having some trouble grasping the idea. She was staring at Sirius with her mouth open.

"Inbred?" Sirius supplied, smirking, "It wasn't just luck that got me these good looks, Evans."

Sirius's clear dismissal of the idea as taboo or uncomfortable seemed to stump Lily completely.

"Good looks?" James scoffed, ruffling his own hair and rolling his eyes at Sirius, "I think you better take another look in the mirror, mate. If that's what pureblood breeding gets you, I'm marrying a muggleborn. Care to help me out with that Evans?"

Lily blushed pink at the question but before she could respond, she was interrupted by Sirius.

"Shove it, Potter," Sirius retorted flipping James the bird.

"Bite me, Black," James replied, throwing the forks at Sirius.

"Are you going to get off me?" Severus asked when a spat broke out between the best friends and everyone was sufficiently distracted when James and Sirius began to wrestle while Sirius tried to smear scrambled eggs into James' hair.

He still sounded grumpy and Hermione smiled to herself at his bad mood.

"No, I like it here," she told him, twisting slightly until she was sitting on his right thigh, her legs between both of his and one of her arms around his neck.

He glared at her while she perched on his lap like she belonged there.

"You're always so warm," Hermione told him, burrowing her face into his neck again and pressing her cool skin against his warm flesh.

"You're always so insufferable," he told her in the same patronising tone and in spite of herself, Hermione laughed at his rudeness.

She knew he was only being sullen because he didn't want to share her friendship or Lily's with the rest of the people she was inviting over for the holidays.

Tilting her head, Hermione pressed her mouth to his ear before she whispered, "You know I love you best, Sev. I'll take or leave the rest of them, but I'm spending Christmas with you."

He didn't say anything in response to her words. In fact, he didn't seem to react to them at all but for the way his arm around her waist pressed her to his chest a little more firmly. He forked another mouthful of his eggs into his mouth without speaking.

When Hermione leaned back away from his ear, still sitting on his lap and not having any intention of moving any time soon, Hermione caught the way his mouth was twisted in the way she'd noticed only happened when he was trying really hard not to smile at her and when he was trying to stay mad at her, but couldn't. She pretended not to see it as she made to reach for some breakfast for herself, intended to eat off Sev's plate too since he was almost finished.

She smirked when he stopped her by offering her a bite of his bacon, holding the fork up to her face. Hermione practically purred as she ate right off the fork, noticing that he didn't bother wiping it or using a cleaning charm on it before continuing to feed himself. She didn't even move from his lap when a food fight broke out between Sirius and James and every started throwing muffins at one another. The best part was, she didn't even think Sev minded.


	14. Chapter 14: A Slight Problem

**A/N: Alright, so I know I'm absolutely horrid for making your wait SO long for this chapter. I completely lost inspiration on this, and skipped ahead to a whole bunch of scenes from when they're older, but I'm back and I'm going to try and get better at updating in a more timely fashion. This has been added to my rota of the fics that MUST be completed soon because I'm trying to smash out as much of my WIPs to completion before posting new novels, so fingers crossed it works. I hope you like the chapter. **

xx-Kitten.

* * *

**Of Ticking Clocks and beating Hearts**

_By Kittenshift17_

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**Chapter 14: A Slight Problem.**

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"Um, Hermione?" Lily Evans said tentatively, almost three weeks later.

Hermione looked over at the redhead and raised her eyebrows. Lily looked a little bit nervous. They were both sitting in the library working on the essay they'd been given by Professor Sprout on the proper planting procedure for Devil's Snare and the most important aspects of how to deter the plant should one end up being strangled or restrained by it; something Hermione had intimate knowledge with already.

"What is it Lily?" Hermione whispered, leaning towards the girl to speak when she spotted Madam Pince stalking by intent on shushing people.

"I, er… well... it's about Christmas," Lily replied in a murmur, watching as Madam Pince stomped away to rouse on some rowdy second year boys.

"What about it?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowing.

Lily had already confirmed that she would be coming to Hermione's place for Christmas, though she wasn't allowed to until after spending two nights at home first. Hermione had been in contact with Eugene and Miranda to get them to link Lily's parent's fireplace to the Floo Network and to have them introduce themselves so they would be able to collect Lily.

"It's just that…. Well… I was wondering, _we_ were wondering…" Lily looked uncomfortable.

Hermione frowned.

"You see, Black mentioned that he'd have to go about trying to find something to give you and everyone else for Christmas, telling Potter they'd need to stop by Diagon Alley with Potter's parents. I know he, Remus, James and Peter are doing the same as me and coming by a few days into the break… It occurred to me that with everyone spending Christmas together… well, the done thing is to exchange gifts, isn't it? You do that in the wizarding world?" she looked very nervous, biting her lip and looking like she was loathe to even bring the topic up.

"Yes, we exchange gifts as Christmas time," Hermione nodded before the realisation suddenly dawned on her.

With so many people attending her house for Christmas, they would all be together and they were all friends. Hermione herself had been thinking about all the gifts she needed to buy for the many new friends she had made. Hermione had been thinking in terms of how she would buy something for everyone without doubling up on gifts and without getting generic type gifts. She wanted to buy something for everyone that would be personalised to them.

It hadn't even occurred to her until that very moment that not everyone had people doting on them and giving them more money than they could spend. That not everyone had a bank vault they could dip into to buy everything. People like Severus and Lily didn't have any money. Their families were poor. They wore second hand robes – Sev especially. Things might be cheaper in this time than they were in the one Hermione had come from, but inexpensive to some was still more than others could afford.

"Oh, Lily, I didn't even think," Hermione said clapping her hand over her mouth, her face filling with remorse. "I'm such an idiot! How could I forget that inviting everyone together would mean we all need gifts for one another and not everyone can afford it?"

Lily's cheeks turned crimson at her rather blunt way of putting it.

"It's not your fault," Lily muttered, looking down at her notes awkwardly.

"Oh, it is. What a stupid thing of me to do! Not to mention that not everyone is as close a friends with one another as others. I mean obviously James, Sirius, Remus and Peter are close, but they don't like Sev very much most of the time. And Sev doesn't like anyone, generally speaking."

"He likes you," Lily said softly and Hermione thought she might be detecting the faintest hint of bitterness in Lily's tone.

When her parents had insisted she spend a few days with them for Christmas, Lily had tried to convince Severus to come with her back to Spinner's End. Severus had informed Hermione that Lily was a bit put out that he'd refused to do so when returning to Spinner's End for the holidays meant he would either have to stay at his house where his father was, or with Lily, where he parents and her sister stared at him like he was a freak.

"I've been planning to get something for everyone who's confirmed they'll be at our place on Christmas day, since it seems a bit rude not to," Hermione said, ignoring Lily's words. "And then I was going to send gifts to those others like Bass who I number among my close friends."

"That's a wonderful idea," Lily muttered, "But… erm… well… it's not like I can…"

She bit her lip, clenching her fists and clearly frustrated at the idea that she couldn't afford to buy everyone gifts.

"Make them something," Hermione smiled at her slowly. "You know you're very magically gifted. Transfigure something or make something out of something else."

"I…" Lily lifted her head, her green eyes suddenly full of wonder at Hermione's suggestion.

"Why didn't I think of that?" she breathed, frowning. "That's a wonderful idea."

"All you need is something small that can be transfigured or charmed into something else."

"What are you getting everyone?" Lily asked, suddenly looking much happier. "I have no idea what to buy for the likes of Potter and Black. To be honest I've never really had to buy anyone a gift before. Severus and I never exchanged them in the past because neither of us had any money, and my parents just always let Tuney and I pick something small each for one another."

"I'm trying to personalise the gifts I'll be giving," Hermione admitted. "Things people might want or need, or something that I've overheard them mention they'd like one of. Just try to think of something that each person could use or might appreciate. It doesn't have to be fancy or expensive or complicated. Like, Neil… I heard him saying the other day that he needs a new quill because his got broken. So I'll get him a new quill. And I heard Molly talking about some kind of skin product she wants to try from the Wonder Witch collection that's good for removing the visibility of freckles."

Lily shook her head at Hermione slowly. "You're always so organised and so attentive to little things like that…. Actually, you make me feel like I must be really self-involved. I have no idea what to get anyone. I didn't even know Molly was embarrassed about her freckles, and I'm her dorm-mate."

Hermione smiled. "You're not self-absorbed Lily. You're just… busy. You've been working really hard to catch up on everything about the wizarding world that purebloods and half-bloods learn from the cradle. I get it. You've spent more time combing through books on wizarding culture and etiquette and things than almost anyone I've ever known. While you're doing that I ask people probing and invasive questions about their interests, their families, and their appearances."

"I know," Lily giggled. "It drives Sev bonkers when you ask him about whether he prefers peas or corn; or whether he'd rather have to slow-dance with a girl every day for the rest of his life, or be forced to eat raw beetle's eyes for a week straight. He gets this look on his face like he's seconds away from hexing you."

"It makes me giggle when he does this," Hermione pointed to her own face before curling her lip away from her teeth, like a dog baring its teeth.

Lily giggled again, covering her mouth as she nodded, knowing the expression well since he tended to pull it at Lily whenever she laughed at the things James and Sirius had to say.

"What are you getting him for Christmas?" Lily asked when she got herself back under control.

"I've been thinking really hard about that," Hermione admitted. "There are a lot of things that I've noticed he might like to have, and even more that I know he needs or ought to have, but doesn't… I don't want to just get him something serviceable though. I want to get him something he'll treasure."

Lily smiled at her softly.

"You really care for him, don't you Hermione?" she asked softly. "Even when he's cruel. Even when he's grumpy, and sarcastic, and downright mean to people or mean to you, I never see you actually get offended by the things he says. You just shrug them off and needle him into a rage or butter him up with affection until he stops being such a git."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I enjoy his company too much. All of his company. Even when he's being positively wretched about something, I enjoy his moods, and his temper, and his stubbornness."

"Even when he says mean things like that you're defective or dim-witted or… oh, what did you call you the other day?"

"And oblivious, overreaching, obstinate ogre," Hermione supplied, chuckling. "Mastering wicked insults in alliterative form. No, that didn't bother me. I was too impressed by the alliteration to even mind."

"He also shoved you off him and stomped off in a huff," Lily reminded her.

"I know," Hermione shrugged again. "But have you seen the way he walks when he's in a huff like that? It's fabulous. His robes billow around him and he stalks like an angry panther. He was in a foul mood with me the whole night when that happened."

"What did you even do that set him off?" Lily wanted to know.

"Correct his homework," Hermione smirked.

"Oh, he hates it when anyone does that," Lily covered her mouth to supress her giggle when Madam Pince appeared at the end of a row of shelves across the room.

"He hates being wrong and having me pointing it out, yes," Hermione nodded, lowering her voice to a whisper once more. "He doesn't like it when I make him feel like he's stupid."

"He's the furthest thing from stupid I've ever seen," Lily admitted. "You both are. I feel like I have to spend all my free time with my nose stuck in a book just to keep up with you. Remus isn't far behind, either."

"You keep up fairly well," Hermione comforted the other witch. "We have you at a disadvantage knowing things about our world that you didn't grow up learning, but you still keep up with us."

"I don't surpass you though," Lily sighed.

"You could though," Hermione assured her. She'd seen how clever Lily could be. She might put her foot in her mouth a lot and be a bit ignorant about certain things, but she'd been catching up as quickly as she possibly could.

"Maybe, one day," Lily chuckled. "Where is Sev anyway?"

"He's in a strop again," Hermione grinned. "Which I'm suspecting after our discussion just now about gifts for Christmas, has entirely to do with not wanting to admit to not being able to afford anything for anyone. He got upset with me for sharing chocolate with Remus."

Lily rolled her eyes.

"He got annoyed with me yesterday when I helped Molly fix her hair too," Lily sighed. "I don't understand why he's like that. He's always been that way. Even with Tuney. He doesn't like it when Tuney and I get along too well."

"He doesn't like the idea that you're having fun without him. I think he thinks that if you have other friends, you won't want to be friends with him anymore and he's such a mean little sod that he doesn't make other friends easily and has a harder time keeping them."

"He wouldn't if he wasn't such a git about everything," Lily pointed out. "I don't know why he's like that. I know some of it's bravado, especially when he's had a bad night with his parents. He always used to be extra mean when he was hurt and trying to hide it. But he does it here too, even where his dad can't get him."

"It's a part of who he is. He's blunt, but most of the time he's honest. He's cruel about it, but he doesn't sugar-coat the truth."

"He could try to be nicer to people," Lily argued.

Hermione sighed.

"Why should he have to?" she wanted to know. "Is it really friendship to ask someone to be something they're not just so you're more comfortable being their friend? You wouldn't ask me to be meaner to people. I wouldn't ask you to be less inquisitive. Why should Sev have to be less honest about his opinions?"

"He doesn't need to be less honest about them, but sometimes it would be nice if he kept them to himself when they're unkind opinions about things," Lily told her. "Marlene isn't very fond of him because of what he said to her in our first day of classes."

"Admittedly, she _was _acting like a bloody idiot."

"Yes, she was," Lily agreed. "But it would have been nicer to pull her aside and tell her so, rather than blurting it out in front of the whole class, making her feel two feet tall and embarrassing her like that."

Hermione smiled ruefully at the memory of Snape cutting Marlene down to size when she'd gotten a bit too big for her britches and attempted magic she wasn't ready for. She'd been showing off and she'd messed up quite badly. Badly enough that poor Peter had been sent off to the hospital wing for the afternoon. There had been no teacher around at the time of the incident, and Severus had been only too willing to rub Marlene's nose in what a stupid thing she had done.

"I know someone who would say that he's unnecessarily cruel like that because sometimes people don't understand their own limits and refuse to acknowledge their own faults. Public humiliation sticks out in the mind more than a quiet talking-to," Hermione chuckled. "They are personal weaknesses that people need to overcome, not be coddled for."

Lily raised her eyebrows at Hermione's words as she quoted Professor Snape – the adult version of the same boy they currently discussed.

"You think it's alright that he's so mean to people? That he rips them to shreds in front of others when they mess up or say something incorrect?"

"I'll admit, Sev lacks tact at times," Hermione sighed. "But to be honest there are some people in the world who _need_ to be cut down to size before they can be helped. Take James for example. He's brilliant in many regards, but there are some areas where his ego makes him think that even if he messes up and endangers lives, that it's all just good fun. A joke. A prank or something to laugh about. Now is a stern talking-to in private going to pull him into line? Or is being publicly shamed more likely to make him reflect on what he's done and how others might be judging him for his actions?"

"Potter is an isolated case. His head is so inflated with his own arrogance and self-importance that he _does_ need to be pulled into line by the masses. But what about someone like Molly? She cried herself to sleep after what Sev said to her last week," Lily told her in a whisper.

Hermione winced at the idea. Poor Molly had been trying to help one of their Hufflepuff peers – Sally Jenkins – with her Potions homework. She'd been telling Sally to write on her essay that Starwort was used in many potions as a balancer. Something that happened to be incorrect. Startwort was a stimulating agent. And Severus had seen fit to point out, rather loudly, that she was wrong and that had she used Starwort in the potion they'd been attempting to stabilise – a Shrinking Solution – it would have had the effect to shrink the object touched by the solution to such a small size that it would cease to exist in the blink of an eye.

"He was a bit out of line there, I'll admit," Hermione sighed, recalling how Sev had told Molly that someone had clearly already done the very thing she suggested and must have used that solution on her brain since it clearly no longer existed.

"A bit?" Lily scoff. "She cried, Hermione. He told her she had no brain at all. He might as well have told her she should just pitch herself off the Astronomy Tower. In fact, I believe he said he was surprised she'd ever mastered independent breathing."

"Okay, yes, he was needlessly cruel to Molly, but admittedly, she'd talked over the top of him the first two times he'd tried to correct her more politely, refusing to listen to him when he explained that Starwort was a stimulant," Hermione argued.

"Sev isn't always right about everything," Lily pointed out.

"He is in potions. It's his best subject. Even _I_ don't challenge him when it comes to potions because he's _always _right in Potions."

"Yeah, well, he makes it hard to be his friend when he's so horrible to everyone all the time," Lily pouted at her argument. "The girls were really upset about it and thought maybe we should avoid him from now on. They got annoyed with me for sticking by him. And he didn't even apologise the next day."

"Sev never apologises. He might be a nasty git when he loses his temper, but he doesn't apologise because at the time he says the words, he means them. To apologise for them would be lying and saying he didn't mean them."

"He doesn't have to apologise for meaning them or even for saying them. He needs to apologise for being so cruel and hurting her feelings. He went too far and Molly cried, Hermione. She cried. He literally made another person so upset with his words that they cried. That's not ok and he should apologise for making her feel so crummy!" Lily snapped. "And now we're fighting! Look at us! You're my best friend and we're fighting because Sev was mean."

Hermione nodded her head.

"Look, I can talk to him, but I don't think he's going to change, Lily," Hermione shrugged. "You know how he is. He'll just be all the more sullen. He's of the belief that everyone should accept each other for exactly how they are. You don't have to like them, but you do have to accept a person for who they are. I am highly logical, pushy, touchy-feely, inappropriately cuddly, bossy, a know-it-all and doggedly persistent. You are giggly, a bit naïve, prone to bouts of bossiness and irrational bouts of kindness in addition to being self-absorbed at times, and even a bit shallow. Severus is cranky, moody, cruel, cutting, acerbic and downright mean. He's also a right prick when he wants to be."

"Did you just call me shallow and self-absorbed?" Lily demanded.

"The very question provides the answer, Lily," Hermione pointed out. "Those are our personal flaws. Those are the things each of us has to put up with when associating with each other. But those things don't – shouldn't – detract from the fact that we have good qualities too. You're exceedingly kind and you always look for ways to be nice to people and to help others, when it occurs to you. Severus is doggedly loyal to those he numbers as his friends and underneath that layer of spitefulness he's the funniest person I know. I'm self-sacrificing and willing to alter my entire life to make the lives of others better."

Lily opened her mouth, looking rather offended at having been so baldly informed of her flaws but Hermione didn't let her interrupt.

"My point – Sev's point – is that in spite of our flaws or our good qualities, we're still friends. He knows he's a git most of the time. To him, everyone else is an idiot and he puts up with it anyway. He believes everyone should put up with him even though he's a git."

"That's not how people work," Lily argued.

"Why can't it be?" Hermione asked. "It's how I handle him. We get along so well because he is unrepentantly himself with me. He's a downright bastard to me, sometimes. And I'm almost always a complete pain in his arse. I know I annoy the snot out of him. I know it drive him nuts when I don't let him push me away because he's striking out to keep me at a distant. I know he hates it when I snuggle into him and get inside his personal space. I know he can't stand it when I correct his work or when I point out if he's made a mistake. He knows he's rotten to me and says cruel things to me that do sometimes hurt my feelings."

"And you're okay with it?" Lily demanded.

"Of course I am. Because at the end of the day, the things I like about him far outweigh the things he says and does – most of which are tools to push others away and keep them at a safe distance where they can't hurt him like his family hurt him. The fact is that he is unapologetically Severus Snape. We get along so well because with him, I'm unapologetically myself, too. Everyone else gets their wands in a knot because they conform to the rules of society that say you can't call a stupid person 'stupid'. Or that you can't tell an idiot that they're being an idiot."

"So you're not going to ask him to apologise?" Lily sighed.

"I'll ask him to, but I don't guarantee it won't have the opposite effect and make him more sullen. He'll be cranky and he'll write Molly off as being friend material and won't associate with her unless he has to. He'll still be mean when he feels it's justified, but the rest of the time he probably won't even acknowledge that she exists."

The look on Lily's face said she knew that Hermione was right.

"I just... sometimes I wish I didn't have to spend half my day apologising to other people for his rudeness," Lily admitted softly. "I wish I didn't have to deal with Marlene nagging me and saying she doesn't want to go to the study session on Wednesday night, or doesn't want to go to Potions because she doesn't want to see Severus."

"Marlene's a little bit dramatic and needs to get over herself," Hermione retorted without thinking, annoyed to learn the girl was so against Severus.

"Did you just...?" Lily asked, her eyes widening in surprise at Hermione's rudeness and her attitude.

"Yes, I did just say that. Marlene's been being a snot because she's decided she doesn't want to associate with someone who will tell her what a stupid thing she did when she made a mistake. Yes, it's preferable to learn from mistakes, move on and not have them thrown in one's face. But the fact is that Marlene could have killed Peter with that spell and she could've seriously hurt herself, as well. And she'd not have felt half as bad about it as she does now if Sev hadn't rubbed her face in what an idiot she was. So I'm not taking back what I said. Sev was right, Marlene was wrong, and she only has her nose out of joint with him because she _knows_ she was wrong and can't stand it."

"Maybe this is why people from different houses avoid each other," Lily suggested. "Different opinions and clashing personalities mean it's harder to be friends."

"You say that as though you're unaware that James, Sirius and Remus are still plotting the revenge they mean to exact from Marlene on Peter's behalf for what she did to him," Hermione replied dryly.

"They're planning to do something to her?" Lily asked, her eyes wide with concern.

"Of course they are," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Marlene could have killed Peter. The rest of them will get revenge for that. Likely in a similar manner."

Lily looked alarmed by the very idea, as though suddenly fearing for Marlene's safety but also wondering if Hermione could be right. Hermione knew she was. She knew enough of Sirius and Remus from the time she'd left behind to know that while they'd been at school the four of them had been notorious in their ability to prank people and get away with it. They were also known for having each other's back, no matter what. Marlene would pay for what she'd done to Peter, and they'd leave it just long enough for her to think she was in the clear an could forget about it.

"You really think they'll hurt her?" Lily whispered, leaning closer.

"Oh, Lily," Hermione sighed pityingly, eyeing the young girl and suddenly feel a terrible pang of condescension common in the more experienced talking to the green-horn. "If there's one thing I know about the Marauders, it's that they don't take slights upon those they'll call Pack, lying down. They won't _hurt_ her in the sense of, you know breaking her arm or something. But they'll scare her and rough her up and probably make her look a right fool, too."

"Shouldn't we warn her?" Lily asked.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Warn her that they're planning something if you want to. It won't help her. If they've set their sights on her, you can count on her being pranked. Telling her will only prolong the torture until she's paranoid, waiting for the quaffle to drop, and all the more fragile when it finally does."

The idea and Hermione's attitude about it seemed to concern Lily even more. Her left eye twitched when Hermione's lips pulled up into a mean little smile that she'd picked up from Severus before she turned her attention back to her homework once more.

**~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~**

"Get off!" Severus Snape growled at her later that evening when Hermione strolled into the boy's dormitory and crawled onto his bed while he was trying to read in bed. He was obviously still pouting.

"No," Hermione replied, crossing her legs up like a pretzel and picking up one of the books he'd discarded.

"Yes. I don't want you here," Severus insisted.

"Yes, you do," Hermione said without looking up from the book, pretending to be focused on it even as he began trying to kick her. Not an easy feat with her sitting squarely on his feet and trapping them in place under the blankets.

"I don't. Why must you always invade my space?" he demanded.

Hermione smiled to herself.

"I enjoy your company."

"You're a rotten liar," he said rudely.

"I am not," Hermione smirked. "And if I were lying, I'd have said I hate you and I never want to see you again."

"Not a liar, then. Just delusional. Sad, really," he muttered.

"Sad that I'm extremely fond of you, Severus?" Hermione asked, tipping her gaze to meet his through her fringe. He narrowed his dark eyes on her suspiciously.

"What have I done?" he asked. "You never call me Severus unless you're upset with me. Why are you in bed with me if you're upset with me? And why should I care? I'm annoyed with you."

"You're in a strop," she corrected.

"I am _not_ in a strop. I don't pout and if you laugh, I'm going to kick you off the bed and onto the floor. You might even hit your head on the way down and I'll laugh at that, too."

"Mean little boys make the most interesting friends," Hermione said condescendingly.

"Little?" he hissed, snapping his book closed and looking extra mean as he reached for his wand. "Witch, I'll show you 'little' when I shrink you and feed you to Essy!"

"Essy wouldn't eat me, no matter what size I was. She adores me," Hermione insisted, smirking now and eyeing his wand with amusement, rather than fear. She didn't doubt he'd hex her. He'd done it before.

"You doubt my threats?" he asked, eyes narrowed, expression pinched.

"I doubt you'd dare," Hermione smirked.

She paid for it when he called her bluff, hitting her with a Shrinking charm. Rapidly decreasing in size, Hermione leapt to her feet, pleased when he had the presence of mind to shrink her clothes along with her body. Darting across the suddenly huge-seeming bed, Hermione raced up his legs and climbed his chest. She was smaller than a fairy by the time he stopped shrinking her. Hermione swung from his long hair like a tiny, pixie-sized monkey.

"Get off me, would you?" Severus laughed when she purposely kicked his neck, his chin and his chest, pretending a tantrum. He tried to grab hold of her and Hermione let go of his hair, falling the short distance to land on his stomach on top of the blanket before darting underneath them, intent on tickling him.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" he exclaimed when she pinched him with tiny little fingers, like nasty, stinging ant bites. "Stop it! Stop it and hold still, you wretched little pixie of a witch, so I can change you back."

Hermione pinched him again in response, burrowing further under the covers and biting him.

"Ouch!" he hissed, digging for her and snatching her up in his grip. Hermione clung to his thumb, small enough to stand on the palm on his hand like Thumbelina. "Did you bite me?"

Hermione grinned evilly.

"Change me back!" she insisted, glaring at him and hating the high pitched squeak of her voice as she spoke in this tiny body.

"No," Severus smirked. "You're less annoying when you're this size because you can't fight back. I might leave you this size. I'll carry you around in my pocket like I do to Essy and everyone will ask where you've gone and I'll just grin."

"You're mean," Hermione informed him, putting her hands on her hips. He laughed at how adorable she expected she must look.

"You like me mean," Severus insisted and Hermione couldn't hide her smile. It was true. She did like him mean. He smiled back at her. "Alright, you little devil. Hold still and I'll resize you before you look so adorable that I actually get mistaken for having a heart."

Hermione was laughing even as he shifted his book and his knees, drawing them to the sides and setting her on the quilt between his knees. He aimed his wand at her.

"_Finite Incantatum,"_ he pronounced and Hermione experienced the dizzying effect of rapidly retaking her proper shape. Severus jerked back slightly, having miscalculated the amount of space she would need and finding her very much in his personal space, seated between his bent up knees on the bed.

"That was fun," Hermione told him. "But don't think I won't repay the favour of hexing you, Sev."

"You bit me in retaliation," he shrugged. "It counts as payback."

"It doesn't," Hermione insisted. "I'm going to wait until you've forgotten about this and then I'll spring the attack on you when you least expect it."

"You won't," he smirked. "You'd never hurt me."

"Sure of yourself, aren't you?" Hermione pretended to taunt.

"I am, actually," he admitted, tipping his head to one side and regarding her carefully for a moment. Hermione just watched him as he watched her, enjoying the little slice of colour that appeared on each of his cheeks as though he'd just realised what he'd said.

"You're put out with me about the presents, aren't you?" Hermione asked, changing the subject before he could go getting mean and defensive.

His brow furrowed in surprise before he looked away.

"I…"

"Don't deny it, I know that what's gotten your wand in a knot. You don't like the idea of the gift exchange for the holidays because you don't have the money to afford anything for anyone," Hermione said.

Severus blushed, obviously unhappy about the way she put it so bluntly.

"And, as I said to Lily, there's no reason you could make gifts for people."

"Do you imagine me creative enough for arts and crafts?" he sneered.

"I expect you're very aware of you potion brewing abilities," Hermione retorted. "And I'm certain that I know a few people who might appreciate a well-brewed potion as a gift."

Severus looked back at her, his eyes going wide.

"You think I should… brew things for people? That would be… acceptable?" he asked.

Hermione smiled gently. "The presents we make for those we care about are worth more than material things, Sev. You put your heart and soul, your magic, into making them. That will always be more valuable than some store bought trinket that is mass produced merely to celebrate commercialism at this time of the year."

His dark eyes darted between both of hers, searching her face and her eyes for something. A very small smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. Hermione had come to know it as an expression that meant he was extremely pleased with her. That little half-smile meant he was pleased that he would be able to save face whilst still finding a solution to a problem. It meant he was pleased with her and that he wanted to hug her, most of the time, but that he didn't dare, lest she push him away. He'd sought affection too many times in the past – with his parents – only to be rejected.

Crawling closer, Hermione leaned into him, burrowing against his bony chest and rest her cheek there while she dug her arms under his back in an embrace. She felt him stiffen for a moment before he wrapped his arms around her, too.

"Why is it," Bass's voice intruded on the moment as Hermione cuddled into Severus, her eyes closing with contentment. "That every time I come in here, I find you two in bed together _without_ inviting me to join you?"

Hermione smiled against Sev's shoulder.

"Because you're a git," Severus told him.

"You know, just for that," Bass said before racing over and diving on top of the pair of them. Severus huffed as the wind was knocked out of him and Hermione whined in protest at the heavy lump upon her back when Rabastan flopped on top of her, burrowing his arms around her and Severus and insisting on getting in on their hug, as he so often did.

"Git," Severus grumbled by Hermione's ear.

"See, now isn't this nicer?" Bass argued, sounding pleased. "Honestly, I don't know why you two insist on suffering without me. I'm always available for snuggling."

"You're always available with moronic nonsense," Severus argued. "I'm going to enjoy not having to put up with you over Christmas."

"That's just cold, Snape," Bass huffed. "And a complete lie. You'll ache with missing me. We both know it And Hermione will, of course, have to console you by inviting me over more frequently than just the ball, sparing me the ridiculousness that will be Rodulphus's engagement party."

"I already invited you and you declined, remember?" Hermione huffed.

"As though I had a choice?" Rabastan complained. "Believe me, I'd rather not watch my brother be stuck with that bitch. She's bloody barmy, I tell you. Roddy's been writing to me and he's seriously considering skipping the country just to avoid her."

"Well, you'll have to take it up with your parents if you want to be allowed to visit," Hermione told the boy when he propped his chin on her shoulder while Severus squirmed beneath her, clearly being squished.

"I already tried," Rabastan sighed glumly. "They said no. Other than the Ball, I'm to spend time with the family. Bloody bollocks, that's what it is. But I want you both to know that when I arrive for the ball there will be much snuggling just as soon as we're out of view of my parents. They'd probably kill me if they could see me acting so inappropriately with two lowly commoners such as yourselves."

"Lowly commoners this, Bass," Severus said before kicking the other boy and bucking under Hermione in such a way that Rabastan was dislodged and rolled to the side so that he wasn't crushing Hermione or Severus.

"Why do you insist on making me feel unappreciated?" Rabastan pretended hurt.

"Of course you're appreciated," Snape retorted. "From a distance. Where we don't have to smell you. Or listen to your whiny voice."

"I think he's in love with me, Hermione," Rabastan said, tugging on Hermione until she was sandwiched between the two of them, all three spooned sideways across the bed.

"How could he not be?" Hermione laughed. "Isn't everyone?"

"See, this is why you're my favourite witch," Bass smirked.

"If she's your favourite, could you two take your adoration for one another somewhere else before I vomit?" Severus complained.

"We'd miss you too much, Sev," Hermione assured him. Severus grunted doubtfully in reply, back to being in a strop and Hermione sighed. He was always in a strop, it seemed. She couldn't wait to get him to her place with the Lyalls simply to have him away from everyone else for the sake of avoiding issues like this when someone said something to rub him the wrong way.

"It's probably true," Rabastan agreed. "Even if you are a sour little sod. How did I end up being friends with the grumpiest bloke in our year _and_ the perkiest witch I've ever met? More importantly, how are you two even friends?"

"Just lucky, I guess," Hermione grinned at Rabastan over her shoulder.

"Maybe I need to figure out what I did wrong to end this bad karma I'm suffering," Bass smirked.

Hermione kicked him lightly and he laughed. She laughed too and even Severus chuckled just a bit. Hermione couldn't help but feel the warm glow of happiness to know that just _maybe_, if they kept on like this forever, she might be able to rescue them both from the Dark path they were otherwise doomed to walk.


End file.
